


to tear down a mountain of gold

by Cxnfiscated



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (one of these gets resolved), Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Casinos & Gambling, Established Adashi, Established Romellura, F/F, Heist, Historical Inaccuracy, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Undercover, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, hooo boy the pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2020-05-19 12:32:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19357090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cxnfiscated/pseuds/Cxnfiscated
Summary: Lance walked over to where he was standing and looped the tie around his neck. „I can do this myself, you know?“ Keith complained as Lance angled his head and checked whether or not the midnight blue of Keith’s suit and the burgundy of the tie were clashing or not. Then his eyes flicked up to Keith’s face, the same grin back in place but now deeper like he had dipped it in syrup.„Indulge me,“ Lance drawled and tilted Keith’s chin up with his finger.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hELLO!! i'm back and i bring the goods. so for those of you who follow me on twitter you've already heard about this AU bc i literally Cannot Shut Up About It. if not, here it is. Casino Heist AU. Old Hollywood Glam. Undercover missions. All that good stuff.  
> Alright before we start, i'd like to thank dearly beloved [eryl](https://twitter.com/kashidaime) and [lance](https://twitter.com/SaltyBlueChurro) for helping me come up with a title, [lovely jess](https://twitter.com/imawreck99) for being an Actual Angel and fixing the mess that calls itself my English and the Thot Brigade for being the real MVPs.
> 
> N E Ways, hi i'm manu and I hope we have a great time together!!

The sun had barely started peaking over the horizon and they were already plotting high crimes that could cost them their heads. Team Voltron sat around a large oak table, all of them messed up in a way that suggested one party too many and at least an hour of sleep too little. They tainted the room like wine stained a white piece of cloth. All of them torn up and dirty, the room luxurious and pristine. 

 

“What did you have in mind?” Lance pulled at his tie until it became loose and Keith’s eyes lingered a bit too long on the slender line of his throat. He should look away, be stronger than that, but his body was working against his mind, stole itself bits of bittersweet pleasure even if it ended up being torture.

Shiro put his elbows on the table, shoulders squared and eyes wide awake like the boundaries of human exhaustion were nothing more than a suggestion to him. He clasped his hands together, one metal, the other one flesh.

 

“You’ve all surely heard about the epidemic that’s happening in the outskirts of the city, right?” He looked at each one of them, expecting an answer. That’s how it always started. Shiro threw them a question as if it were bone and they were nothing more than a bunch of dogs and let them figure it out from there.

“It’s been getting worse by the day. Rumours say that the death toll passed the 2k-mark yesterday.” Pidge adjusted her glasses, not paying any mind to the crack running through the right lens.

“Others say it was passed a week ago,” Hunk interjected. The collar of his shirt, as well as his tightly-coiled black curls, were stained red by what Keith assumed was gunpowder.

 

Adam entered the room, still slightly limping from a mission that had almost gone south, and stood behind Shiro. He placed his hands on Shiro’s shoulders and as if they were the tides answering to the pull of the moon, the tension inside them bled away. 

“Shiro and I heard about a drug trade-off that is set to happen in the Arus Casino two week from now. The shipment would be large enough to treat at least a fourth of the infected living in the outskirts.”

 

“What kind of drug?” Allura leaned her head against Romelle’s shoulder, her white curls a mess, words torn up by a yawn. 

“Mespospentathol. Also known as Mespos,” Romelle answered before either Shiro or Adam even drew a breath. Both of them blinked, obviously surprised. Keith did as well. They were all still learning that Romelle harboured all kinds of obscure knowledge. The exact height of buildings, outdated poisons from centuries ago and, apparently, drugs. “It can either be used to treat epidemics like the white wave or as hallucinogenic.”

“So the rich want to get high, while the rest of the city bites the dust?” Pidge scoffed and crossed her arms. 

“Yeah, that’s about it,” Shiro answered and Pidge hissed out a curse and Keith felt like joining in.

“So you want us to intersect the trade-off? Is that it?” Keith asked and crossed his arms in front of his chest

“Almost, yeah.” 

 

Adam reached behind himself and brought forth a blueprint big enough to cover the entire table. “The drop off is at the same time as Casino Double Night. Every win gets double by the Casino.” Adam looked up and smiled. Keith frowned in confusion until he saw that Allura was answering the smile with one of her own. Equally sly, equally cunning. Keith was already scared.

 

Lance shifted in his seat until his thigh pressed against Keith’s and the breath inside Keith’s throat got stuck on its way out. 

“So we’re robbing both drug lords _and_ Arus? That’s, like, a bit ambitious, even for us.” Hunk’s face was caught in a mixture of scepticism and worry. But that was the usual. Their team had exactly one voice of reason and that was Hunk.

“Adam had the idea that we’d split up. One team to be the face of the trade-off, one team to be our pair of gamblers and the rest of us in the background to keep things running smoothly.” Shiro reached for the red pen that laid around the table and circled a room that was situated in the back of the establishment.

“This is where the drop off of is set to happen.”

“That’s bad,” Keith interrupted, “There’s only one exit, no one could make it out of there if things go south.”

Shiro’s gaze met his, the glint in his eyes promised danger and Keith knew too well that he would deliver it too. “I know someone who could.”

 

“Absolutely not.” 

 

Lance’s voice was steel reinforced with authority. Keith felt him tense as if Lance’s muscles were his own, as if his entire body echoed each of Lance’s tendons and muscles and bones. “You won’t put Keith in danger like that. Not alone.”

Adam and Shiro exchanged a look, heavy with meaning and adorned with a grin to go with it. Keith wanted to wring their necks. “No one said anything about him going alone.” Adam met Lance’s eye and held onto it. 

Lance scowl darkened but he slightly deflated. The battle was already won. He would agree with Adam’s idea. Keith wanted to reach out and smooth the set of his jaw, straighten out the lines between his brow– He stopped himself. There were a time and place for foolish wishful thinking and that wasn’t now.

 

“We need someone who can lie anyway.”

Keith bristled. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Shiro raised a challenging eyebrow. “Exactly what you think it does.”

“You can’t lie for shit,” Pidge added. Insult to Shiro’s injury. 

Keith turned to Lance, foolishly expecting some type of support but he merely shook his head. “Sorry, bud.”

“I hate all of you.”

 

Allura’s eyes glinted with held back laughter. “Alright, we have Lance the liar and Keith the exit plan. What does the rest of us do?”

“Allura, how long since you last played?” Adam asked as he now finally sat down next to Shiro. His movements were somewhat slow and pained but his voice remained surprisingly steady.

“Has to be months, you?”

“Even longer.” The entire table collectively frowned in confusion. All of them knew that Adam and Allura already knew themselves from before their time on team Voltron but none of them knew the actual circumstances.

 

“What are you talking about?” Romelle asked, her hand had wandered up Allura’s back and she was absent-mindedly playing with the white curls at the nape of her neck. 

“Allura and I used to see each other out on gambling nights. We were usually the only two brown people in a room so we always ended up sticking together.” Adam shot Allura a warm smile and her own shown just a bright in return.

“While doing what? Conning rich people out of their money?” Pidge’s eyes were lit with admiration.

“Mostly, yeah.” Adam adjusted the cuffs of his stained shirt as one of his gelled-back strands of hair broke free from his wax-made cage and fell into his face.

“Everything is possible with a solid understanding of math and a face pretty enough for people to think of as exotic.” Allura scrunched up her nose and Keith watched both Hunk and Lance agree.

 

“So you and Allura will play?” Romelle asked, eyebrows raised in question. Something about her looked like innocence that had come off the course, her long blonde hair braided out of her face, lacy dress modestly buttoned up until under her jaw. It was almost enough to distract from the blood that soaked its light pink hem a ruddy brown and her split knuckles.

“Not exactly,” Adam adjusted his glasses and turned to all of them, “Allura will play and I’ll be shuffling the cards to make sure that she keeps winning.” Adam had a confident smile on his lips, sure of his skill and even… excited?

 

“Hold on, hold on, hold on. Don’t you need a special permission to shuffle cards at a Casino in the Capital?” Pidge kicked her legs over the side of her chair and crossed her arms. Her eyes were narrowed in thought and if Keith pretended hard enough, he could see the different trains of thoughts passing by behind her forehead.

“Already taken care of.” He reached inside his back pocket and revealed a shiny black ID. There was a picture of Adam with his hair gelled back and with his glasses but it was the name next to it that made him frown.

“Curtis Norton?” Hunk raised an eyebrow. “When did you have time to do this? We’ve been stumbling from one mission into another in the last few months.” 

That, sadly, was true. Now that they had managed to find a house large enough that they could live together without murdering each other, all of them had to pull their weight to make sure that rent was delivered on time.

Pidge hacked. Keith and Shiro stole. Lance and Allura conned rich businessmen out of dubious donations. Hunk blew up buildings in a more or less legal manner. And no one really knew what either Romelle or Adam did and all of them were smart enough not to ask.

 

“It’s from before,” Adam somewhat reluctantly obliged.

“Before Voltron?” Lance asked and Adam nodded.

Keith saw the prominent confusion on Shiro’s face and snorted. “Don’t pull that face, Shiro. Shocked that your fiance had a life before you?” Keith snarked and shot Shiro a shit-eating grin when he scowled at him.

Adam’s face twisted into an echo of Keith’s grin and Lance next to him snorted into his balled fist. “Aw, Takashi, don’t be sad. I’ll start measuring my life as before and after Shiro. BS and AS if you will.”

“BS suits you just right if you ask me.” Shiro crossed his arms and tried really hard not to pout. Even Keith could see that he was failing miserably.

By now the rest of the table had joined in on Lance’s stifled laughter.

 

Shiro cleared his throat and put on a serious face that would have worked if it weren’t for the fact that his cheeks were the same bright red as the light of the rising sun. 

„So Lance and Keith will handle the trade-off, Adam and Allura will be of pair of gamblers–„

„I’ll go with them. They’ll need backup in case something goes wrong. Besides…“ She raised her head and shot Allura a lazy smile, „I’ve always wanted to play your trophy wife.“ 

Allura snorted. “You’re impossible.”  But she still weaved the hands together. It was almost disgustingly adorable and filled Keith with longing.

„Alright, Lance and Keith as handlers, Allura, Romelle and Adam as our gamblers. What about the rest?“ He looked at Pidge and Hunk, „Any special wishes?“

„I could pose as a bartender,“ Hunk offered, „I’m somewhat decent at mixing drinks and I could keep an eye on both our duo and trio and warn them if anyone is getting suspicious.“

„How do you know how to mix drinks?“ Allura asked.

„Side hustle.“

„Another one?“ 

“I get bored quite easily.”

Keith shouldn’t be surprised. All of them had at least one side hustle, in their line of work it were the jacks of all trades that survived and thrived.

 

Pidge looked at Shiro. „We’ll have to secure an exit route, won’t we?“

„Yeah, unlikely that we’ll be able to leave the way we entered. You with me?“

Pidge grinned, a curve promising danger. „You got it. I’ve been doing too much hacking recently, anyway.“

Pidge and Shiro as a duo were invincible. No home, no establishment was safe from them. If there was a way in, they would find it. If there wasn’t, they’d make it. 

 

„I’m still not sold on the entire handler act. What do we know about the trade-off?“ Lance clasped his hands together and used them prop up his chin. His usual carefree demeanour had hardened, bravado and amusement had bled away. Somehow the stakes seem to have risen for Lance, like there was something on the line that hadn’t been before.

„The tradeoff is between Mayor Zarkon’s son, Lotor, and an anonymous handler that he hasn’t seen before and won’t meet until the drop-off. They’ll meet up in one of the backrooms and the shipment will be brought in by an unmarked truck. Once the money is handed over, the truck will be emptied and leave through a back door.“

„There’s our exit plan.“ Pidge chimed in and Shiro nodded.

„Lotor’s doing business with the underbelly now?“ Keith frowned. 

Everyone in the city knew the mayor’s family was involved in crime up to their chins and but still stood sure enough not to lower their heads. Keith was sure that every horrible crime in the capital could be linked back to them if you looked hard enough. But no one wanted to look. The Name Galra fell and suddenly every reporter was silent, every law enforcement official played both deaf and blind and everyone else suddenly started attaching value to their wellbeing.

 

„Look at the princeling dealing with the bad guys,“ Romelle cooed, her voice drenched in distaste and sharpened by irony. She scrunched up her nose and only softened when Allura laid her other hand over their joined two.

 

„So now it’s not only a pair of drug dealers and Arus but also the _son of the mayor?!“_ Hunk yelled, his voice shrill and breathless, „Adam, have you lost your mind?“

„Don’t you think I thought about this myself?“ Different from Shiro or Keith, Adam’s voice didn’t rise with anger or annoyance. The world could be ending and it would still sound unnervingly calm. Not the calm of a sunny day sea, but the calm of a storm barely held at bay, the kind that had you holding your breath for the first crack of thunder. 

So Keith did, he inhaled and didn’t exhale.

„I wouldn’t suggest something like this if it wasn’t urgent. I don’t ask you to put your life on the line just because I want to see what happens or because there is something I wanna prove to myself.“ Adam was panting now, his jaw clenched his eyes black with anger. Even though his voice remained in its low steady rumble, he looked almost… feral in a way. Brown strands of hair, darkened by wax hanging into his face, brown skin tinted red, entire body taut, poised in a way that had you expecting violence.

 

„What changed?“ Hunk asked, „because as of now I don’t really see why we should concern ourselves with an epidemic that so far had been under control, shipment of drugs or not.“

„That’s the point, it isn’t. The white wave isn’t under control anymore. There have been talks of abolishing the quarantine centre in the west sector of the capital.“ Adam pushed his hair out of his face, now more tired than he was upset.

„But the west sector quarantine base is the largest one in the city. Abolishing it would condemn the entire sector.“ Romelle stared at the blueprints in shock, her eyes widened, her words slow.

„Exactly. If we don’t do anything at least a quarter of the cities outskirts will die.“

„Even more than that,“ Hunk croaked out, his face drawn up with what Keith read as guilt.

 

„That shipment wouldn’t be enough to cure all of the quarantine centre’s inhabitants but would be enough to avoid another wave of infections,“ Shiro explained. Then he rested his hand on Adam’s shoulder and Keith experienced a déjà-vu. Shiro’s hand made contact and the tension inside Adam’s body bled away.

„Alright, so unless anyone in here is completely fine with letting innocents die, which I will comfortably assume is not the case,“ Pidge made a wide gesture with her hand, that was something between a politician giving a rousing speech and a rich man showing off his cigar, „We’re doing this?“

Lance cleared his throat. „Let’s do this right, like good upstanding citizens.“ Keith was proud to not that he wasn’t the only one who let out a sarcastic snort at that.

„A show of hands. All in favour?“ Eight pairs of hands went up.

„All against?“ Allura asked. All the hands fell back down onto the table.

„Alright,“ She clapped sharply and fixated Adam with her blue eyes. The first light of the day and her determination rivalled as the gleam inside her eyes. „Walk us through your plan.“

 

* * *

 

 

Two weeks had come and gone. Their entire house, an abandoned mansion that had at some point belonged to one of Allura’s distant relatives and they now rented from a shady-ass landlord, was often more empty than not. All of them were out and about running errands and wrapping up loose ends before anyone could have the idea to pull at them. 

 

Dresses and costumes were acquired by Coran, Allura and Romelle pulling together all the scraps they could find and calling in all the favours people owed them. 

Hunk worked on his skills as a bartender together with Matt who, surprisingly, had a knack for it. Adam and Allura were constantly perfecting their way of cheating. He showed her a card and then began to shuffle the deck again and again. When he was done she had to guess whether the card he would pull next was the one she had seen earlier or not. Or something similar, Keith had mentally clocked out the second time Lance had tried explaining it to him.

Lance was constantly seen studying the persona he had to portray, repeating facts to himself, like a monk reciting a prayer, slipping in and out of accents like they were a muscle he was training. 

Keith himself had fairly little to do. Lance and he had come to the agreement that Lance would do all the talking and Keith would be mostly silent.

 

 _„You can be like my brooding bodyguard. You know, all tall dark and mysterious“_ Lance had fanned himself, pretending to swoon and Keith had found himself smiling without even meaning to. It had become instinctual by now. Lance said something silly and endearing and Keith smiled like an idiot. Every time. Without fail.

 

„Damn, Keith, look at you. You clean up real nice.“ Lance walked up to him and straightened the collar of his shirt, that for once wasn’t stained with old blood.

„Pretty easy to do if you’re starting from a low point,“ Keith mumbled back, eyes set to the shiny tips of his shoes to hide the effect Lance was having on him. Namely his insides turning into a gooey mess and his entire blood flow rushing up to his face.

„You wouldn’t know,“ Lance answered, already rummaging through his drawer full of ties, completely unaware of what damage his words were doing. 

Lance was surprisingly tidy, tidier than anyone would think. Every morning, after his morning coffee had breathed life into his body and brought light back into his eyes, he would go back to his room and put everything where it was supposed to be. Socks would be folded, shirts and pants as well, shoes would be freshly waxed and shined and Lance would be happy again. Then he would piece together the Lance that everyone knew, the one that only came out after a rigorous morning routine. The one with edges so smooth and a surface so shiny and flawless, that all doubt, all harm and ill will just slipped right off, like raindrops on a window.

He composed himself, arranged his pieces, like architects constructed a room, like artists did with the composition of a painting and the result was a masterpiece. Brown hair, once curly, now completely tamed and neatly parted on the right part of his head. His freckles, already mere faded remains of summer, completely gone, hidden underneath a coat of make-up. His shoulders, broad and proud clad in a neatly pressed white shirt, tucked into black pants. Lance simultaneously looked like the dream of every mother- and father-in-law and like trouble had dressed up itself for a Sunday in church.

Keith watched all of that happen in real time. And he fell for it.

Hook.

Line.

Sinker.

 

„What’s that supposed to mean?“ Keith frowned while closing his cufflinks. 

Lance looked up and shot him a roguish grin, the kind he usually reserved for whatever pretty lady or gentleman at a bar who would get to enjoy his attention for the evening. Keith felt foolish but his insides still melted like as if it were genuine. „Whatever you want it to mean.“

A dangerous promise. Keith briefly closed his eyes when Lance turned his attention back to the drawer full of ties. He tried getting a hold of himself, catching all of his pieces before they could spill and shatter on the floor. He was only halfway through recomposing himself when Lance let out a cry of triumph, a burgundy tie clasped tightly inside his fist.

Lance walked over to where he was standing and looped the tie around his neck. „I can do this myself, you know?“ Keith complained as Lance angled his head and checked whether or not the midnight blue of Keith’s suit and the burgundy of the tie were clashing or not. Then his eyes flicked up to Keith’s face, the same grin back in place but now deeper like he had dipped it in syrup.  

„Indulge me,“ Lance drawled and tilted Keith’s chin up with his finger. Keith’s skin caught fire then and there. Blazing hot and bright. „You’re gonna spend the entire night between me and the barrel of a gun. The least I can do is making sure that you’re dressed well for the occasion,“ Lance joked but Keith could clearly hear the underlying worry in his tone and did his best to soothe it. 

„I’m gonna be right where I’m supposed to be,“ Keith said and he, himself, was surprised how much he meant those words, „Besides, I do better with you guarding my six. No one I could trust more in that regard.“ The corners of Keith’s mouth pulled up in a small smile and Lance shot him a brighter one in return.

Lance adjusted the ends of the tie until they were the right length and began to loop them around Keith’s neck. Then his expression darkened, like clouds pulling in front of the sun. „Still… I don’t like you being in danger like that.“ He yanked at the knot to properly fasten it and then narrowed his eyes as he checked whether it was straight or not. It wasn’t. So he loosened it and began a new

 

„I’ll be fine, Lance,“ Keith whispered emphatically, his eyes deliberately searching to cross Lance’s. The moment dragged on and Keith threatened to get lost in a deep blue sea. The point he was trying to make was the sole piece of wood that kept that from happening.

 

Lance’s fingertips brushed his neck when he went on to straighten Keith’s collar and Keith inhaled sharply enough that Lance _had_ to have noticed. Time, along with Lance and Keith, stilled. Sparks shot over its surface like Lance had electricity running in his veins rather than blood. It was at the base of Keith’s spine that Lance’s touch fully took its effect. His nerves tingled as his back experienced both sweltering summer and frosty winter.

It took an iron grip to hold onto his composure.

 

„Promise?“ Lance didn’t break eye contact, didn’t even blink. His face was an open book, the letters big and legible but Keith had forgotten how to read. Heat shot up into his cheeks and Keith averted his eyes.

„Lance-“

„ _Promise me,“_ Lance interrupted him, his determination and his eyes forged of steel, „That you won’t put yourself in harm’s way.“

Keith blinked at him and inside his chest hope began to bloom. Dream and damnation at once. He squashed the whispers of _maybe he does care, maybe not all is lost._ He couldn’t dare listening to them. Flinging himself off a cliff would be a better idea.

Keith swallowed and was at once acutely aware that Lance’s fingers were still brushing against the skin of his throat, that they stood close enough for their chests to be touching and their breaths to be mingling. The sparks returned. This time, stronger.

„I promise.“

The corners of Lance’s mouth curled up into a satisfied grin. „Good.“

And he gave Keith’s tie a final tug. 

 

* * *

 

„Are you sure about this?“ Romelle rolled onto her stomach and looked at Allura. Her eyes got lost on the highs and lows of Allura’s back muscles, their edges lined golden by the light on the vanity. She had been watching her getting ready for an hour now, had helped pick out the silver silk that wrapped itself around her torso and flowed all the way down to the middle of her calves. Her own makeup had been finished a while ago and dress had been thrown over a violet velvet armchair.

 

„Not any less than when you asked twenty minutes ago.“ Allura stopped applying lipstick to roll her eyes at Romelle through the mirror. There was no bite in her voice. Romelle had listened to it enough to hear  her fondness even when Allura tried to hide it. 

Romelle clenched and unclenched her fists. „I’m sorry… I’m just-“

„Worried. I know,“ Allura’s body and voice softened, harsh edges disappearing, shoulders sinking. „I would be too.“ 

 

She set down the lipstick and walked over to the bed. Romelle’s attention was captured by the glitter of her dress when Allura knelt down in front of the bedside to bring their faces to the same level.

The theme of glitter was stolen off her dress and then elaborated further on her eyelids, like the encore of a successful act and Romelle was the audience starving for more. Allura’s blue eyes were rimmed in a gleaming silver that clung to her long, long lashes like the dew of freshly fallen snow. 

„You don’t have to worry.“ Allura drew her eyebrows together and put her hand on Romelle’s cheek. Romelle felt her skin dissolving under the touch, like a sugar cube thrown into a cup of coffee. Inevitably. All at once.

„We both know I’ll do it anyway.“ The hand at her cheek fell away and gripped her hand instead. Allura frowned as she brushed her thumb over the bruised knuckles. They were already over a week old, more green than they were blue but Allura still treated them like Romelle had just walked through the door with them. Still had her jaw clenched in residue anger. Still had her blood thrumming with adrenaline.

 

„Bit hypocritical, though, is it?“ Romelle tensed, even though Allura’s face remained entirely open, no trace of anger anywhere, „You expect me to sleep well every night, while you’re out there beating up some criminals to pay rent. Alone. But I can’t go on a simple mission?“ If Allura’s honesty had been a knife, it would have gone through Romelle’s skin and bones as if they were nothing more than butter. 

Romelle was at a loss for words. She couldn’t deny the truth. There was no point in trying to, either. She went out five times a week and beat up disgusting sweaty people for money. Her hands brought nothing but pain. They broke jaws. They cracked noses. They shattered ribcages. All of that for money.

 

„I- You’re right.“ Romelle lowered her gaze as guilt crawled up her throat. She didn’t have the right to act the way she did. Not when she was so much worse.

„Hey, hey, hey,“ Allura’s eyes darkened with worry as she cupped Romelle’s face to make them meet eyes, „Don’t do this.“

Romelle snorted, blush high on her cheeks. „What?“

„You know exactly what. I can hear your thoughts from here.“ Allura’s grip tightened as she gave her voice the determination needed to get into Romelle’s skull. „It’s okay for you to worry. It’s natural. But please trust me enough to handle myself. Just as I do with you, alright?“

Romelle closed her eyes for a brief moment, before answering in a rough whisper, „Of course… I believe in you.“

 

Romelle expected a verbal answer after that. One that flowed naturally and didn’t carry the same stiltedness as her words did. Instead, she got a press of lips. An “ _I understand”_ and a _“Thank you”,_ turned into physical touch and coloured in the reddest shade of love. Romell unravelled into the kiss. Allura’s lips were almost sweet enough to sting and Romelle was a fool with a sweet tooth. She robbed closer to get more access but opted for gripping Allura’s wrists when any other moment would have required to break the kiss. Priorities.

 

A kiss turned many, as their lips found each as if they were a pair of puppets pulled by the strings of adoration until time, now short, announced an end to their bliss.

 

* * *

 

Missions like this one were old and familiar. The planning, the strategising, drawing out escape routes and finding potential threats. All of it had become basically muscle memory by now. Adam reclined in his favourite armchair, absentmindedly swirling his glass of whisky, brows furrowed in thought. A deck of cards sat next to him on the coffee table, but he had gotten bored of practising his shuffling patterns a while ago. 

 

His eyes caught onto Takashi and settled first on his hair. He had dyed his white streak black again. _Too recognisable,_ he had shrugged when Adam had found him bent over the sink, his hands stained a bluish black. Adam couldn’t help but mourn its loss. 

„You look like you’re thinking again. Stop it.“ Takashi strapped a ring of knives to his thigh and fastened it tight.

„You’re not even looking.“ Adam rolled his eyes and took a sip of his whisky. It burned all the way down, as it should. It grounded him in a way other things couldn’t.

„I can feel it. It’s like a stink.“ Takashi made a show out of scrunching up his nose and looking revolted.

„Stop projecting. We both know it's your disgusting excuse for a cologne,“ Adam drawled, the angle of his head measured and put in place by phoney boredom. His muscles uncoiled as the exchange wrapped around them like a protective layer. 

Takashi raised his head and met his eyes through the mirror, they gleamed a shiny black like dress shoes that had been polished with mischief rather than shoe wax. „You take that back.“

A corner of Adam’s mouth curled up, the movement languid and unworried, and narrowed his eyes in a challenge. „Make me.“

The look inside Takashi’s eyes darkened but the rest of his face opened up, playful arrogance bleeding away. „I can’t and you know that.“

Adam sighed and took another swing of his whisky. Another burn. Different reason. „I just want this to be over.“

Takashi walked over to him, went down on one knee and gripped both his hands.  Takashi shot him a soft smile and something inside him slotted back into place. „Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?“ Takashi’s eyes caught and diffracted the dim light from the chandelier overhead and Adam felt himself fall in love all over again. „You, a charming card dealer, all slick and trustworthy, stealing from smitten business people who won’t even know what’s happening to them.“

„Allura and Romelle will do the stealing, I’ll just be shuffling cards. Besides, out with these two, I’m not gonna be the one making heads turn.“ Adam wasn’t in the least bit bitter. He stated it as a fact like one would say the colour of the sky or the number of days in a year. Because that’s what it was: A truth if there ever was one.

 

„You’re selling yourself short.“ Takashi put on his best coaxing smile, the one he used to charm waiters and waitresses alike. Although only one of the two interested him. It was the kind that made you want to believe him. The kind the came with sweet words and a timbre so deep and warm it was incapable of lying.

Adam knew it to be false. He fell for it anyway. Because resisting Takashi was often harder than just giving in. 

„Also, I’m an absolute catch,“ He put on a roguish grin that instantly transformed him into a heartthrob, the kind that stole and broke hearts wherever he went, marred with lipstick- and bite marks and reeking of days old rum. „So it has to say something that I chose you.“ Shiro smiled and nodded like he had just explained the inner workings of the universe and now just needed Adam to agree with him.

„I feel honoured,“ Adam responded flatly.

„You should. Birds of a feather flock together.“ Takashi wore his pride like _he_ had been the one that came up with the idiom. Adam nodded, his expression solemn. Takashi did too, his expression mirroring Adam’s. Adam nodded again, the same face as before and Takashi did too. Then that process was repeated, again and again.

Until neither of them could keep a straight face anymore. Takashi broke first, stoic face breaking in a snort, eyes pinched together, his nose scrunched up. It was like watching the sunrise.

Adam followed suit, he wheezed out his own hideous excuse for a laugh. “You’re an idiot.”

“A genius,” Shiro corrected.

“Idiot.”

“Can we at least settle on _your_ idiot?” Takashi looked up at him, his eyes still shining in that way that did things to Adam, cheeks a blooming red, bunched up under his eyes by a smile. This time wide, goofy and genuine. Adam melted.

His hands reached out on their own and cupped Takashi’s face. The kiss didn’t exactly work because Takashi was still smiling. But warmth and contact and love ─ all of it was there and things were good. Takashi huffed out a chuckle when they broke off and Adam felt its warm caress more than he actually heard its sound. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Adam just shook his head in response, a fond smile on his lips.

 

Takashi got up then, satisfied smile slightly playing on his lips. As if this had been his ploy all along as if his goal of making Adam laugh at him and give him kisses was now reached. Adam angled his head. Might as well have been. Considering everything Adam knew about Takashi and the fact that he was still smiling like he was the cat that got the cream, milk and bird at once.

Adam got up and walked over to where Takashi was arming himself in front of the mirror. He wrapped his arms around his waist and leaned his head on Takashi’s shoulder. Adam got to watch in real time how with each gun and each dagger he carefully lifted and weighed inside his hand some of his former mischief slipped off his face. Made way for stony seriousness to take its place.

 

“We don’t have to do this. You know that right?” Adam’s voice was at once small and rough, too weak to carry the burden that had been weighing down his mind for weeks now.

“We both know that we’re not gonna let those innocents die,” Takashi lifted his head and met his eye in the mirror. Adam envied him. He stood tall when all Adam wanted to do was to crumble. 

“I know,” Adam let his eyes fall shut and bit back a sigh, “Just- We said it right from the start, we don’t trade lives, even those of innocents. And too much of this plan banks on luck. What if something happens to Pidge while you’re securing the escape route. Or _you?”_ His grip on Takashi’s waist tightened. “I can’t lose you. There have been too many close calls. I can’t-” His voice finally caved under the weight of his doubt and broke.

“Yes, you can.” Takashi turned inside his grip and looked at him, eyes filled to the brim with conviction and determination. Adam made qualms to argue but Takashi cut him off before he even got a word in. “If… _If_ I don’t make it, you carry out the mission and then you live on. This mission doesn’t end with me. _Your life_ doesn’t end with me.”

 

 _Oh, but it does._ His fingers on Takashi’s waist twitched, as his throat tightened. the thought alone was terrifying. A world without Takashi. His mind didn’t even want to go there, he, the strategist, well versed in all kinds of worst case scenarios, could even bear to form a thought.

Takashi sensed his inner turmoil. “Adam.”

Takashi wouldn’t budge and Adam couldn’t tell him the truth. “Alright, I agree.” The words were a coat of lead on his tongue. The words hung between them like a bad omen, like dread that had taken on another form.

 

In an attempt to distract himself, Adam eyed the clock high on the wall. The eleventh hour had just started. They had to leave. 

“I’ll finish suiting up, I’ll be right behind you,” Shiro said as Adam took a step back and he nodded to show that he had understood.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll wait out for you in the hall.” He voice was still shaky. 

And with that Adam walked over to the door, grabbing his abandoned, ice-less whisky on his way out. He drained it in one go and let the door fall shut behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the team members resume their respective posts but there are surprises waiting for them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHE BACK! hello everyone, welcome back!
> 
> i bring the new chapter and (hopefully) good content.  
> also this fic now has a [pinterest board!!](https://www.pinterest.de/rosemgodevi/to-tear-down-a-mountain-of-gold/), so check it out!!
> 
> N E WAYS, ENJOY!!

Hunk discretely wiped his hands on his trousers as he entered Casino Arus through the staff entrance. It was a small backdoor in the farthest corner of the kitchen, tucked away between a tall shelf of spices and another one filled with pots and pans. 

From what Hunk had gathered every single kind of drug that got sold under the table ─ not in any backroom but out in the open ─ passed through that door. Pidge had scrunched up her nose at the suggestion to use it as exit plan ─ a dismissal if there ever was one. Then she had pulled her laptop closer and began to type, her mind already looking for a better option, constantly weighing pros and cons.

Hunk closed the door behind him and looked around. The kitchens were a wide, organised mess. Each workstation was separate, indicated by aprons and hats thrown onto work counters and stoves. But each one of them looked like someone had thrown them into a hurricane just to see what would happen. Hunk wrinkled his nose at the overwhelming amount of chaos. He could never work like that.

 

_ “Hunk, do you copy?”  _ Pidge’s voice crackled through the communicator stuck to the back of his ear, a thin foil Matt and him had come up with while the rest of the team had been neck-deep into preparations. It was nearly invisible and would allow them to remain in contact as the mission was going on. 

_ “Copy. I’ve entered the kitchens,” _ Hunk whispered as he triple-checked if he was alone. He should be, given that he was way too early. 

_Newcomers_ _Motivation_ , Lance had shrugged, _the most normal thing ever. No one ever suspects the starry-eyed apprentice that comes in two hours early and leaves an hour late to be up to anything shady._ He hadn’t question Lance on it, no one ever did. They all could only guess the number of people Lance had successfully lied to in his life, so his word was law when it came to those matters. 

He was indeed alone. Hunk allowed himself to release some of the tension his body was clinging to and went on to look for a cart. He’d need it, once Pidge made it into the building.

 

Pidge’s breath rustled through the comms and told the tale of her physical exhaustion.  _ “These vents are absolutely, fucking disgusting. I’ve crawled past at least five dead mice on my way in.”  _ She gagged and Hunk snorted.

“Well, you said you wanted to be a stealth agent.”

_ “Well, fuck that. After this, it’s hacking and hacking only for me. Let Romelle squeeze herself through vents and God knows what.” _

_ “Absolutely not. I’m allergic to dust. My sneezing would alert  _ everyone _ in a fifty-mile radius.,”  _ Romelle chimed in over the comms. 

_ “Do I care about your sneezing?”  _ Pidge growled out, biting back a cough. 

 

Hunk pushed the metal cart out of the kitchen and out into the hallway. Unlike the rest of the fancy establishment, the employee and staff space didn’t look like it was expensive enough to make bankers and drug lords weep tears of greed. It was all low ceilings, pasty white walls and thick blood-red carpet that swallowed all of your steps. 

Hunk positioned himself and the cart under a vent and waited. Until now, everything was according to plan. Granted they were only about ten minutes in but small victories, right?

 

A small hand shot out of the vent and punched the grid out of its hinges. Hunk’s hands shot out and he caught it before its shrill noise could alert someone. Then the hand retreated and a pair of short legs took its place. Pidge dangled herself off the vent and dropped down onto the carpet. Her roll was soundless and Hunk was once again reminded why exactly she didn’t do just hacking. 

“Hey, you okay?” He asked as she wrinkled her nose at the dust on her pants.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She leaned down and began to get rid of the dust on her pants and shoulders. When she was done she faced him again. “Give me a boost?” 

Hunk lifted her up so that she could put the vent lid back in place. It snapped into place and he lowered her down to the ground again. They both checked if there was any sign of her entrance and nodded when they saw that there was nothing but a little dust on the carpet.

 

Pidge crouched and crawled onto the lower shelf of the cart. There was a bit of shifting until all of her limbs were properly hidden by the white table cloth Hunk had thrown over it. Once he couldn’t see her anymore he began pushing the cart back into the kitchen.

“Have you heard from Shiro?” Hunk murmured. She would hear him either way. Through the comms or without them and he couldn’t risk being overheard by anyone already in the building. 

_ “No, I haven’t. But he should still be doing perimeter checks since he isn’t entering until later. He will alert us if there is a problem.”  _ She soothed his worries without him having to say anything. It was this constant they all knew to account for. Hunk worried and the rest of the team knew how to deal with it. 

 

Hunk inhaled, next sentence already on the tip of his tongue when someone turned into his hallway. His breath got caught on the way out.

“Hey, what are you doing here?“ A tall man, with dark skin and round glasses, approached him. His hair was neatly parted and gelled down to a shiny black coat on his head. Hunk took a step back when he realised the man was taller than him.

He cleared his throat. “Oh, me? Uh, I’m the new bartending apprentice. It’s my first night serving Casino Double Night, so I came in early to get ready.“ His voice broke. Twice. No one in their right mind would buy this.

“First night, huh?” The man smiled, nothing more than a soft curve and Hunk allowed himself to exhale. “Those are always the worst.”

Hunk forced out a laugh. “Man, tell me about it. I feel like I might keel over any minute now.” Hunk fanned himself and continued his nervous laugh. His comms laid completely silent but his was hyper-aware of Pidge hiding under the cloth. He forced himself not to glance down.

“Some advice, you know, from one bartender to the other: It’s never as bad as you think it is. Stray clear from drunk men holding cigars. They are the worst. Let the others handle them. Try to schmooze with middle-aged players, they leave the biggest tips. The rest will sort itself out,” He shot Hunk a warm smile and Hunk couldn’t help but like him. He seemed genuine in a way he hadn’t expected someone who worked at Arus to be. His eyes told no lies and his smile was sincere. Hunk found himself smiling back without even meaning to. 

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.” Then he reminded himself he had a role to play, had to be the picture of the over-enthusiastic newcomer. “I’m Henare, by the way. Very happy to work with you.” He extended his hand and shot the man a wide smile. The picture of innocence.

“Oh, God, where are my manners?“ The man tapped his palm against his forehead before grabbing Hunk’s hand and shaking it. “I’m Curtis. Curtis Norton, very pleased to meet you.”

 

Then multiple things happened at once. Hunk choked on his own spit and erupted into a violent coughing fit and Pidge, Romelle and Lance, who had at some point joined their comms channel, all simultaneously inhaled sharply.

Curtis took a step forward and began to pound against Hunk’s back. “Oh, God, are you okay?” His brows knitted up in worry and it took Hunk every fibre of his being and every last shred of his self-control to keep it together. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just…”He gestured in the general direction of his throat, “Breath went down the wrong pipe.”

“Oh, okay. Be careful.” His worried expression turned teasing but Hunk couldn’t bring himself to laugh past the dread churning  inside his stomach.“We wouldn’t want you dying before your first double night. Now, that would be a shame.”

“Yeah, a shame,” Hunk echoed weakly. He had to get out of here before he lost it completely  “Uh, you know what? I’ll take a look at the ice stored in our kitchen. Just- just to make sure we have enough for later.”

“We have interns and kitchen boys for that, though.” Curtis frowned and Hunk bit back a curse.

“It’s one of my weird habits to check every little thing. Helps with the nerves and stuff.”  Hunk widened his smile until his cheeks strained and prayed to every single deity he could think that Curtis didn’t see right through his spotty facade. Curtis observed him, brows drawn together in what could be either confusion or suspicion and Hunk held his breath.

 “Alright then,” There was lingering doubt behind those words, “I’ll be out in the back. Nursing this lil’ baby.” He pulled a cigar out of his pocket and presented it Hunk like one would present a precious gem. “If you change your mind, or maybe want to share, you know where to find me.” He shot him a crooked smile and turned on his heel. Hunk didn’t exhale until he watched Curtis turn back down the corner that he had come from earlier.

 

He managed to hold onto his composure up until he stepped foot in the kitchen and made sure that there was no one in it besides himself and Pidge. Then he let go of it.

“Romelle, Lance? Get Adam on the comms,” Hunk practically hissed.

“ _ I’m already here.” _

“Good. Adam, didn’t you think it would be important to tell us that Curtis Norton, the  _ real  _ Curtis Norton is still alive.” Hunk lifted the cloth thrown over the cart and Pidge crawled out from where she had been hiding.

_ “Curtis transferred to a Casino on the other end of the country, it doesn’t matter.”  _ Adam sounded genuinely confused which did absolutely nothing to calm Hunks nerves.

“Nope. Oh no, he didn’t.” The situation was so absurd he  _ had  _ to laugh about it. There was no other way for him to handle this. “Curtis Norton is a bartender in Casino Arus who is  _ on shift  _ tonight. _ ” _

_ “What?!” _

“Yes, I just ran into him back in the hallway. He introduced himself to me and I told him my cover story about being the new guy.”

_ “What did he look like?” _ Adam sounded frantic now, like there was a slim chance that they might still be talking about a different Curtis 

“Tall, lean, dark-skin, as in darker than me but lighter than Allura,” Hunk explained

_ “This is bad. This is real bad.”  _ Hunk’s panic had leaked into Adam’s voice infected him like a virus. “ _ He was supposed to be on the other side of the country, how is he here?” _ Panic, panic, panic. Rising, rising, rising.

_ “It doesn’t matter how he got here. What will we do about it?” _ Romelle snapped to interrupt Adam’s downward spiral.

“Take him out?” Pidge asked her hands clenching and unclenching, “It would certainly be the most certain way of making sure he doesn’t bother us or endangers the mission.”

_ “We’re not gonna kill him,”  _ Adam growled.

“Not what I meant,” Pidge replied without even flinching. Hunk stared at her, even he had drawn his shoulders up at Adam’s icy tone of voice. “A nice hard blow to the head will have him out cold for at least a few hours. Enough for us to be in and out before someone notices.”

Hunk met her eye and shook his head. “That won’t work. He is visible on the security footage in the hallway, you’d need your laptop to wipe it without leaving a trace. Besides, it’s Casino Double Night and we’re planning on taking out a bartender. Someone’s bound to come look for him.”

_ “He needed his ID to get inside the building and Adam will need his to get inside, too. We can’t have two separate Curtis Nortons enter the building. That will look suspicious and alert security,” _ Allura interjected.

“Adam is there a way for you to get another ID or somehow enter the building in another way?” hunk asked

_ “Getting a new ID in under two hours? Impossible-” _

“You won’t have to,” Pidge interrupted him, “I’ll hack into the ID roster and match Adam’s ID number with a different name. So that even though the card displays Curtis Norton, officially it’ll be someone else who entered the building. None of the scanners they use actually display the name of the person or the picture. They only check whether or not the name is in the register.”

_ “That would actually work,” _ Lance mused.

_ “But there is one problem: Curtis knows what I look like. He will recognise me on sight,”  _ Adam said, his voice spun tightly. 

“I’ll mess with the roster, move him to a bar that faces away from the table you’ll be shuffling at and Hunk will make sure he doesn’t approach you.” Pidge raised an eyebrow in question and Hunk nodded his approval.

_ “Alright then. Problem solved, right? I’ll fill in Keith when he’s done preparing and Hunk we’ll meet you in roughly one hour, alright?” _

“Yeah, we should be good here, at least as good as we’re gonna get. I’ll go get familiar with the bar and the Red Room and you all finish getting ready.” Hunk wiped his sweaty palms on the side of his slacks and straightened his shoulders. There was no time for worry right now.

 

The rest of the team bid their goodbyes and left the comms. First Allura, then Romelle, then Adam until only Lance remained.  _ “Pidge, Hunk, please be careful alright?” _ Lance sounded serious, more so than he usually did when the staged missions like this. 

“Yeah, we always are. You know that.” Pidge frowned but softened her voice, the authoritative edge in it bleeding away.

“Lance, what’s wrong?” Hunk asked softly. 

_ “It’s just…” _ he broke off, seemingly frustrated and fumbling with words. “ _ I’m not used to this. Normally when we do this, it’s just me who does the lying part and the majority of you just stays in the background. I can’t help but worry this time… Even more, than I usually do…”  _ He sighed and Hunk deflated.

“But we can’t let you go to the frontlines alone. We’re all in this, as a team, and we’ll get through this  _ as a team _ . So trust in us as much as we trust in you right?” Hunk began to twirl the edge of the table cloth and eyed the clock on the wall. This was taking too long. No one needed this long to prepare ice. Especially when already had been crushed.

“We’ll be alright and you will be too. So don’t worry,” Pidge said with unwavering belief. The kind that out of all of them on team Voltron only she really had mastered. Everything would work out because she said so. There was no other way.

_ “Alright, yeah. You’re right.” _ Lance paused for a moment.  _ “I’ll go look after Keith and fill him in. We’ll see each other later.” _ Then, his comms, too, laid silent.

 

Hunk turned his attention back to Pidge who already had lifted her eyes up to the vents above her. “Need a boost?” Hunk grinned at her and she shot him a sharp one in return. He lifted her weight effortlessly and in under two minutes she up in the vents and the latch was closed again. 

They made eye contact through the grid. “Be careful.”

“You, too.” A pair of nods. One from the kitchen, the other one from the vents. Then she was gone and Hunk was alone.

 

He took a deep breath to gather himself then he went back to work. He went and got ice from the adjacent freezer, loaded it up onto the cart and pushed it out into the hallway. As he walked from the staff space up onto the space were actual clients would later mingle and linger, the hallways turned from simple to luxurious.

 

Ancient wallpapers, the kind displayed in museums, whose patterns were drawn by hand in liquid gold, lined the walls. The floor beneath his feet shifted from carpet to marble and the sound of his steps bounced off the walls that stretched up and up and up. The walls now were a deep burgundy, like spilt wine adorned with golden ink-drawn lace. Overhead he passed one chandelier after another, each one more elaborate and more expensive than the last. 

 Hunk immediately straightened and tried to look as disinterested as possible. He was no Lance. He was no Allura. But he could try his best. He could get away with some starry-eyedness as an apprentice but he didn’t want to risk it. After all, the best way of fitting in was to portray nothing but indifference. 

He entered the notorious Red Room through the backdoor that led to the space behind the bar. He didn’t quite know what he had expected. He had heard of it, the room where the hedonistic elite of the Capital went to spill both money and alcohol like it was nothing. The place where drugs and dollar bills flew over the table like insects did through the night, where the right word could get you a fortune and knife to the heart alike, depending on who you were talking to. It was the birthplace of organised crime, the palace of lies and gambling.

 And Hunk’s imagination hadn’t done it justice at all. 

 

His breath lodged itself inside his throat and all of his atoms remained confined to their spot when he first laid eyes on the Red Room.  _ It looks like a room dipped in wine and blood, _ was his first thought.  _ It’s beautiful,  _ was the next. 

The floor beneath his feet was black marble lined with red and gold. His steps echoed and even they sounded like they belong to a rich man, the kind of man who looked at this and only saw the familiar. The air itself turned them expensive. 

 

All across the room, there were massive tables, crafted from ebony and arranged in a circle. Pool, blackjack, roulette – there was everything. The bars were lined with rows upon rows of expensive liquor. Some of them were entirely translucent, glittering like crystals molten down to a liquid form, while others shone a mysterious black or navy blue, mysterious potions waiting for a brave one to try them.

But they weren’t the most impressive thing, not by a longshot. 

Right in the middle of the room, in the centre of the circle, was a massive fountain. Crafted from silvery white stone, it was made out of multiple hanging multiple cups that seemed to suspended by nothing but the strings of heaven holding them in place. Hunk had made sure that he was alone a long time ago, so he abandoned his false indifference and allowed himself to gawk at the black water that ran through it and marvel at the way diffracted the light of the massive chandelier hanging overhead. A chandelier that would remain unlit as long as the light falling through the painted glass dome windows was enough.

 

His moment of marvel passed and Hunk caught himself before positioning himself behind the bar that could overlook the entire room. He placed his utensils where they were supposed to be and eyed the clock. Less than an hour. 

Now all he had to do was wait.

 

* * *

 

 

“You look like an overgrown chandelier,” Romelle said as she stepped into the entrance hall. Her heels clicked on the dark wooden floor and the street lights spilling through the high-arching windows made her hair gleam like molten gold.

Romelle had protested those windows as if her life depended on it.  _ They‘re a risk, Allura. God knows who could break in.  _ Their dispute lasted for weeks. In the end, they settled on the windows but Romelle installed the bulletproof windows herself. 

“Stop stealing Lance‘s jokes. Being pretty won‘t make them funny.” Allura rolled her eyes and closed the front clasp of her jewellery collar. It covered her collarbones and shoulders like glittering armour. Rows upon rows of pearls and white diamonds looping around her shoulders and spilling down the cleavage of her dress like falling water. The weight settled down as her shoulders and Allura turned to face Romelle.

“Maybe he’s stealing mine? You don’t know that.” Romelle shot her a shit-eating grin, adjusting the handgun strapped to her thigh. It was barely hidden by the slit that came all the way up to her thigh. Allura found her eyes lingering on the dark brown leather that posed a stark contrast against Romelle’s rosy white skin. When she caught a hold of herself Romelle’s smile had widened even further.

“Shut up.” Allura sighed as Romelle walked up to her and put her hands on her waist. 

“Didn’t say anything.” Her smile was radiant and Allura’s fingers twitched with the desire to trace it over and over again. 

“Of course, you didn’t.”

 

Romelle didn’t answer that instead she traced a row of pearls and smiled. “You do look breathtaking though.” Allura’s head began to burn as her heart expanded in size. “If weren’t completely gone already, I’d fall in love instantly.” Allura pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. The promise of something more, the thrum of kisses waiting to happen.

 

“It almost looks like a wedding dress,” Romelle mused, her eyes clouded over in thought as she pulled on her red gloves. She said like it was nothing, a mere observation. 

“You sound like you thought about this.” Allura turned to joking as the insides of her chest destabilised. 

“I did.” Romelle didn’t allow her to deflect. She caught Allura’s eye again and smiled, eyes and lips sincere. Allura’s mind emptied as she searched for any sign that Romelle was joking. Her search turned up empty.

“You’re serious?” Allura asked, eyes wide in wonder.

Romelle didn’t waver. “Yes, I am. I want to marry you one day.”

Allura began to beam, she couldn’t help it. “Is this you asking?” There was no world where she wouldn’t say yes. 

Romelle snorted and pulled her closer until they stood chest to chest. Their noses brushed and Romelle’s laugh was a soft caress of air on Allura’s skin. “God, no. You deserve something better than this.” The velvet of her gloves ghosted over the skin of Allura’s back. Goosebumps rose in its wake. Allura’s chest expanded in excitement.

“You’re everything I could ever want. You make me happier than anyone else.” Allura leaned in to whisper the words against Romelle’s lips.

Then they shared a kiss, a soft lingering touch, their lips moving in tandem, their way of saying “ _ I love you.”. _

 

The clock struck eleven and the magic between them vanished. “We have to leave.” Allura sighed, reached for her white fur stole and threw it around her shoulders. Romelle gathered the deep red fabric of her dress and followed her to the car. Gravel crunched beneath their heels as the approached the car. Allura held the door open for Romelle before circling the car and getting in herself

They both settled down in the back of the car and let their fingers weave together. Their gloves, one white the other one red, stole the sensation of skin against skin but the continued pressure was enough to ground them anyway.

 

“Did Lance fill you in about the Norton Situation?” Allura made eye contact with Keith through the rearview mirror, his eyes shone almost golden in the light of the passing by street lamps.

“About the fact that he failed to make sure that his alias wasn’t in town? Yeah.” Allura frowned when she heard his bitter tone and saw his knuckles turn white against the steering wheel. 

“I got word from Pidge, she already changed the roster. Everything should work out fine.” Romelle answered, her head turned towards the window.

“He should have dealt with this sooner,” Keith answered and Allura could see the pounding vein at his jaw. His entire posture told the tale of suppressed anger and frustration. That was unusual. 

 

“Keith, you know everything will work out fine right?” Allura tried herself at a soothing tone and kept her voice soft. 

 He sighed and took his hand off the gearshift to push his bangs out of his face. His hair was still undone. Lance would fix it later. “I know, I know. It’s just-”

“Stressful,” Romelle turned to look at the back of his head and completed his sentence for him, “Seeing someone you love and care about in the direct line of fire does things to you.”

“I don’t-” Keith started, the cheeks and back of his neck turning red.

“Don’t even start. We know,” Allura interrupted him and Romelle nodded her approval.

“Am I that obvious?” Keith kept his eyes straight ahead on the road, but his voice had been dunked into resignation and was still dripping. 

“Not painfully. You just remind me of myself, that’s all,” Romelle answered, her voice soft, “Like someone who has found the perfect person but doesn’t think they deserve them.” Allura gripped her hand tighter as she bit back words of protest. This would be addressed later but now was not the time.

 

Romelle must have hit a nerve because Keith remained silent, eyes clouded over in thought. “But it worked out for you, that’s the difference.” He sounded so small and tired like he had abandoned all hope a long time ago. “It won’t work out for me.”

“Don’t say that.” Allura leaned forward and let go of Romelle’s hand to put her hand on Keith’s shoulder. It was rigid with tension.

“It’s the truth. People like Lance, people so perfect and right and good don’t happen to people like me. I would only make him unhappy.” Allura’s heart clenched as she failed to find any shred of doubt inside of his voice. Keith said the words like one would say the sky was blue or humans needed air. To him there was something in him that would poison their relationship, that would doom it from the start and the thing could not be doubted.

 

“You can’t possibly believe that?” Romelle asked aghast, shaking her head.

“Romelle, please,” Keith pleaded, “Drop it.”

Romelle opened her mouth to argue but stopped when Allura put her hand onto her shoulder. Allura silently shook her head and Romelle reluctantly complied.

“Thank you.”

 

The rest of their drive passed in silence. When Keith dropped them off it was close to midnight. He parked right in front of the casino and nodded at both of them before driving off. 

 

Now, their act had to begin.

 

Romelle offered Allura her arm which she gladly took. “Do you have our tickets?” Allura asked Romelle who began rummaging through her purse until she found them. “Got them right here!”

“And what’s your name?” Allura knew she was being paranoid. This wasn’t the first time they were doing this. This wasn’t that big of a deal. She should be okay with this.

“Amelia Rose and you are my lovely wife Marilyn who really needs to calm down because there is no reason to be stressed, alright?.” Romelle shot her a serious look and waited for Allura to nod. She gave her waist a tight squeeze and steered her towards the Casino entrance.

 

 Arus was impressive and it took Allura a lot not to gape. Carved from white stone, it looked like something stolen from ancient times, something that belonged in a museum and not out on the street. Its white columns, at the top of white marble steps that led to the enormous entrance, stood tall and were adorned with beautiful sculptures and artwork. 

Allura gathered the sparkling fabric of her dress and walked up the white steps leading up the front of the establishments. The scent of flowers wafted through the air and it took her a little while to recognise that it came from the flowers tied to the railing. 

Romelle’s hand was her only anchor when they reached the front door and handed their tickets to the security officer. “Mrs and Mrs Rose?”

“Yes that’s us,” Allura smiled at the gruff guard. Mouth wide, lips sparkling ─ the perfect picture of a woman freshly in love. (Well, only the fresh part was the lie anyway.) 

 

He shot them a calculating look before stepping aside to let them pass. “Enjoy your night,” he grunted with no sincerity whatsoever.

Romelle shot him a smile, perhaps a bit too sharp to fully play their role but Allura was too annoyed by the guard's tone to blame her for it. “Oh, yes we definitely will.”

 

They entered the Casino arm in arm, perfectly blending in with the other rich clients. It was like stepping into another world. Into a world where hunger was a concept know in theory but not in practice. Where desire was a synonym of greed and every wish was granted as soon as it turned from thought to breath.

Allura handed her stole off to some faceless staff boy. She didn’t thank him. Here, she wouldn’t have to. He did what was expected of him and she was to see it as natural.

 

They stepped into the Red Room and her eyes immediately fell to the black fountain in the middle of the room. The water running through it looked like the sea at night, pitch black and glittering. Romelle leaned in close. 

“I spotted Hunk.” She discreetly gestured to Hunk who was already looking in their direction. Neither of them dared to smile but Hunk discretely tapped his ear.  _ Turn on your comms. _

_ “Gamblers, do you copy?”  _ His hushed voice rang through the comms.

Romelle scratched her nose, blood-red glove obscuring the vision of her mouth. “Copy. Any suspicious behaviour?”

“ _ Not yet no.”  _

Allura led Romelle to a table that she had spotted. The round mahogany table was lined with young men and women, dressed to the nines and equipped with the confidence that made it all seem natural on them. People like these were her most favourite targets. Filled to the brim with confidence and cockiness and easily swayed by a pretty face. This would be almost too easy.

 

“Is there still a free spot at your table?” Allura threw on her most seductive voice and turned to the man sitting in the middle. His coiffed hair, regal jawline and carefully indifferent facial expression spoke of sway. He was the point of fixture. Move him and the rest of his entourage would scramble to re-establish their position in his orbit. He was the one they had to convince, the rest would follow suit.

“We won’t be pulling any punches tonight, Ladies. Are you sure you’ll be able to keep up?” Allura would have given everything to wipe that slimey grin of his face and the tightening of Romelle’s grip on her elbow told her that she longed to do the same. 

Instead, she widened her grin, gave it a sharp edge, a hint of a challenge. “Underestimating us already?”

He narrowed his eyes and she knew she had won. He made a show of leaning over and listening to his best mate’s whispered counsel. “Well, I don’t want to turn away any eager players. especially not if they’re as pretty as you two.” His eyes strayed down the v of Allura’s neckline and she bit her tongue to keep her strained smile. “I suppose you can stay.” He waved at a pair of twins ─ both completely devoid of colour, their skin, hair and eyes as white as snow ─ who up until now hadn’t done anything but following their conversation with eyes and faces filled with boredom. They jumped to their feet and conjured up a pair of chairs, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Be our guests.” His smile turned downright predatory and Allura felt Romelle tense behind her. 

_ I will empty your pockets down to the last penny. Just you watch.  _

 

“You called, sir?” Adam appeared seemingly out of nowhere, his hair gelled black, his face carefully devoid of feeling. Allura slowly exhaled. 

“Here you are finally! We’ve been waiting for ages!” The young man huffed out an exasperated breath and shot Adam a withering glare.

Adam took the criticism in stride. “Apologies, sir. Shall I deal the cards now?” He was already shuffling his deck without even having gotten an answer.

The man made eye contact with Allura, not paying attention to Adam, cocky smile still playing on his lips.  The rest of their players took their seats at the table. “Yeah, let’s start playing.”

 

* * *

 

Keith now fully looked the part of the role he had to play. His broad shoulders were clad in a navy blue suit that posed a lovely contrast to the burgundy red of his tie. A tie,  _ Lance _ had tied around his neck. His eyes lingered on Keith’s collar. 

Just mere hours ago, his hands had been there. 

Just mere hours ago he had felt the smoothness of his skin, had felt the faint pulse of his heartbeat. 

Lance’s fingers twitched. He had hoped that brief moment of contact, purposefully overstepping the line before retreating would be enough to still his hunger, to soothe the longing residing under his skin.

It hadn’t. It only made it worse.

 

“Look at you, my knight!” Lance walked up to the car, a sleek black car that was too spotless to not rouse attention, and shot Keith, who stood leaning against the car with his arms crossed in front of his chest, a teasing grin. Lance brushed a piece of lint off of Keith’s shoulder. A moment of weakness, he told himself. One that wouldn’t happen again. 

Keith rolled his eyes. “Save your dramatics for Arus.” He stepped out of Lance’s reach, his face almost comically blank. 

Lance retreated his hand. A step too far. Like he always did. He pushed and pushed and pushed until Keith pushed back. He could almost pretend that it didn’t hurt anymore. 

 

Lance busied himself with entering the car. Gingerly sitting down, smoothing over imaginary creases in his black suit jacket and collar, fixing his hair in the overhead mirror. Everything that occupied his eyes and hands was a welcome distraction. 

“Did everything go over well at the Casino?” He was the last one to arrive and now that everyone was in the line of sight or within earshot of wanted criminals, their comms were a luxury too precious to use for soothing his own worries.

“Yes. Allura and Romelle entered without any problems and Hunk, Pidge and Adam have already resumed their posts. Everything is fine,” Keith answered without looking at him, his gaze went straight ahead as he expertly navigated the cluttered evening traffic. The glow of the street lights passing by painted his edges golden and Lance got lost in the sharp cut of his nose and jawline.

“Good.” He forced his eyes back down onto his lap, “That’s good.” His words came out stilted and wrong, lacking all of the calmness Lance wanted them to portray, and they lingered between them as if suspended by invisible threads.

 

The silence between them grew and stretched throughout their whole drive. They didn’t say a word as the tall and illuminated buildings of their neighbourhood gave way too small wooden huts, that housed those that needed to be within walking distance of the capital. 

Walking distance was everything under two hours. Lance knew that from the time where he still believed in the good of the law and fell asleep cramped next to four of his siblings, watching the stars through the holes and cracks in their ceiling. He had still believed that he could work his way out of there by being honest and good. It took him a lot not to scoff at that thought. 

 

They still didn’t say a word as the building began to grow again, piercing high up into the sky as if they wanted to disturb the stars themselves. Their facades elaborate shows of money given a new form, arrogance formed by architecture. 

The awkwardness between them spread inside the car like a poisonous gas and with every minute that passed Lance tongue got heavier with the things he needed to say. 

 

He remained too lost in thought, too occupied with forming and reforming sentences that he didn’t notice Keith turning into a random back alley and killing the engine. “Alright Lance, what’s wrong?” He fully turned to face Lance and caught his eye. Lance wanted to shrink.

“Nothing! Everything's a-okay! No problems here.” His false laugh stung inside his ears and Lance sank back into the car door, the handle digging into his back. 

_ “Lance.” _ Keith shot him a stern look and lowered his voice. He wasn’t having any of Lance’s helpless flailing. 

For a moment Lance remained in his tight coil, eyes wide, fake smile wider and his voice caught on the brink of hysterics. Then he abandoned the idea that the act would ever work on Keith. He willed the tension out of his shoulders, deliberately pulled them away from his ears and exhaled.

 

“I’m… scared,” Even admitting it burned like whisky of the worst kind. He exhaled shakily. His hands shot up to bury themselves inside his hair but he got a hold of himself before he could make a mess out of his gelled down curls. He forced them back down into his lap. Then he huffed out a shrill laugh, more breath than actual sound, but jarring and wrong anyway.

“Oh, God, I’m scared.” His mind raced to catch up with the words that were coming out of his mouth as it struggled with the idea that  _ he _ who was their resident liar, who did stunts like this all the time and got off on the thrill of the was … scared.

 

He met Keith’s eyes who looked at him like one would look at a wild animal. Waiting for the loss of control, always ready to intervene. His entire body was filled with tension and yet, his voice was calm as he spoke. “Lance, you need to calm down. There’s no need to be scared. We’re all here. You don’t have to go in alone.” 

_ That’s the problem!  _ Lance wanted to yell and scream at Keith’s soft tone. He wanted to reach up and tear his own hair out, wanted to turn around and call this thing off. 

 

Keith latched onto his eyes, didn’t let him break contact. Despite his loud heaving and the undoubtedly wild look in his eyes, Keith didn’t flinch. He stood tall when all Lance wanted to do was crumble. So he latched onto Keith. Before he could second guess himself, Lance reached out and grabbed Keith’s hand. He gripped it like a lifeline, a plea for help turned physical. 

Lance expected Keith to retrieve his hand, to shake him off in confusion or even disgust. Expected this to be another boundary Lance had pushed too far. 

He got none of that. Keith closed his fingers on Lance’s hand, his grip steady and sure.

 

Lance looked down at their hands, joined together, like he’d always wanted them and his heart collapsed in longing.

“Lance, you don’t have to worry. I’ll be right here all the time and if something happens, We’ll deal with it. As a team.” Keith squeezed his hand as if to underline his point and Lance found echoes of his words in the space between their palms. An “ _ You are not alone”,  _ tucked between his fingers, the “ _ I’ll be right here”  _ scrawled into the lines of his hand. 

 

Lance’s chest uncoiled and welcomed calmness, the scorched and banished guest, back in. “ _ Please do stay for a while,”  _ it asked.

He smiled, the curve soft, still weakened by the echoes of turmoil ringing inside his bones. 

“Thank you, Keith. I don’t think would have been able to bounce back from that doom spiral without you.” Lance made a spiral motion with his finger and crossed his eyes. Jokes to dampen his lingering fear, that trick didn’t quite work like it used to. 

“You’re stronger than you think you are.” Keith merely shrugged, open and honest and unbothered, and broke their grip to put his hand back onto the gearshift. Traffic fully reclaimed his attention as he navigated his way out of the alley and back into the steady stream of traffic. The transition was seamless, like there had been no groundbreaking thing, like Keith hadn’t just flipped a world on its head and reinvented gravity. 

 

Lance blinked, stunned speechless, as warmth bloomed inside his chest. This time unlike any other time when his heart decided to go against them, he let them prosper. He let them flourish and grow until they banished all lingering fear that might have been lurking in the crevices. It was the last bit of true Lance he got before the act would begin.

 

After they parked and exited the car, Keith remained always a step behind him. That didn’t sit right with Lance. They should be equals in any way, not whatever  _ this _ was. Lance frowned lightly as he walked up the stairs to Casino Arus. The heels of his dress shoes rang loud and echoing on the white marble and Lance utilised it to draw attention to himself. Being seen was crucial. 

 

“Mr Álvarez?” The gruff guard looked at him, think brows furrowed together in a canyon-like crease. Lance caught whiffs of his breath and deeply regretted giving in to normal human urges, like air. It smelled like something had crawled inside his mouth and decided to wait out its last remaining days ─ It was horrendous.

 

“That’s me,” Lance lowered his lids and angled his head in a way that conveyed thinly-veiled boredom and exhaustion.

“You didn’t mention a plus one.” The security guard glared at Keith who had pulled out a cigar out of Lance’s pocket and had started making moves of lighting it. He lowered the lighter but kept the cigar in his hands, his stoic gaze set to the security officer. 

“He’s my bodyguard. I thought it goes without mention that someone like me would need protection.” Lance raised his chin and shot the guard an arrogant look. That’s how it was done. The fault was never your own. You were always right and if you weren’t the word had to rearrange itself until you were. 

The guard hesitated but Lance refused to give in to panic. “I can pay if that makes you work faster.” Lance whipped out a $50 bill out off his chest pocket and handed it to the guard as Keith and he walked past. His focus was on, keeping his step even, face curled into an arrogant sneer. He didn’t quite belong here, that wouldn’t become obvious unless he gave someone reason to question his presence. 

Keith pocketed his cigar and shot the officer a dark look, before following Lance inside.

 

They both simultaneously switched on their comms as they approached the red room.  _ “Liars, do you copy?”  _ Hunk’s muffled voice rang through the comms and Lance reminded himself not to look for him. The man he was tonight didn’t associate with bartenders.

“We copy. We’re approaching the bar on the right side of the fountain. Lotor’s men will come get us in about half an hour.” Keith played the role of bodyguard exceptionally well. His strong eyebrows furrowed as he scanned the room and took note of any suspicious clients or possible threats. Lance steered him towards the bar with a soft touch to his elbow. In any other situation, his hand would have lingered and his eyes would have done the same, tracing Keith’s strong features and sharp edges again and again but he couldn’t dare to give in to weakness. Not here. Not now.

 

They settled down at the bar on the right side of the room. It was slightly elevated so they could follow any game from a comfortable distance and watch the black water of the fountain twisting under the golden glow of the chandeliers up ahead. Lance gestured towards the bartender, his movement sharp and demanding. She walked up to him and shot him a smile that was as real as his disguise. He pretended not to notice instead, he turned towards Keith.

“Akira, care for a drink?” he already knew the answer, men of their age not being seen drinking would draw attention and raise suspicions.

“Vodka on the rocks, Sir.” Keith nodded at him and kept his face carefully blank.

Lance gestured at the blonde bartender, “Make that two.”

She took a notebook out of the black apron she had tied around her waist and scrawled down their order. Her fingers were stained a deep red with what Lance assumed was some sort of fruit syrup and she smeared some of it onto her nose when she reached up to straighten her round glasses. 

“Any other wishes, sir?” The look inside her brown eyes changed, didn’t fit the innocent air she had portrayed earlier. Lance narrowed his eyes and his own smile sharpened to match hers. 

“No, that would be all.”

 

She left them behind and Lance turned towards Keith who shot him a look he couldn’t quite read. “What?” Lance asked as Keith unexpectedly didn’t lower his eyes when he was caught staring. 

“Nothing. Just thinking.” His eyes remained on Lance, his brows furrowed as if what he was looking at didn’t make sense. 

“Thinking what?” Lance fought off the heat rising to his cheeks, he couldn’t be seen blushing at someone who worked for him.

“How well you're playing this role. You don’t sound like yourself at all.” Keith was bumped into from behind as a crowd inside the room abandoned the rest of the bars for theirs. They formed a large pulk that forced Keith to stand right in front of Lance. his face about a foot away from Lance’s. The huge group of people behind Keith didn’t let up so he was forced to remain close. His hushed words hung between them as Lance’s insides melted at the barely hidden wonder in his voice.

“Lying is what I do.” Lance shrugged, the picture-perfect study of forced casualness.

“Seems more than that to me. Don’t sell yourself short.” Keith held onto his eyes and his breath puffed onto Lance’s face, a soft caress that had him craving more. Even though they were in public, a room that was foreign and dangerous to them Lance couldn’t help but think of this as intimate. Pushed together by people brushing past, faces just a mere inches apart, sharing the same air ─ the longing beneath his skin worsened. Lance glanced down at Keith’s lips and he felt himself drawn to them like a sailor hearing a siren’s call. This was torture of the worst kind. 

 

He heard the bartender coming back and turned his head so that Keith’s lips were next to his ear. “She’s coming back,” Lance mumbled, “We need to look like we’re talking.”

“Well, that’s easy.” Keith’s lips brushed the shell of Lance’s ear and for a moment he was drowned in a cloud of Keith’s cologne. 

There was the clink of glass meeting wood and Lance and Keith pulled back. Lance purposefully didn’t pay attention to the bartender. “I absolutely agree, good call.” Lance maintained eye contact and gave his gaze the shine of approval.

Keith played along. a small smile played on his lips. “Thank you, Sir.” Then he reached for his glass of vodka. But he didn’t lift it. Lance lifted his own and nodded at the bartender. A dismissal conveyed by motion and cloaked in a smile. He had no gratitude for her. 

 

“So now how do we drink this without getting drunk?” Lance shot Keith a wry smile. “We both know I’m a terrible shot while drunk.”

“This is enough to get you drunk?”

“Enough to make me lose my accuracy. Also, I had wine earlier”

Keith’s eyes scanned the room and lit up when he got an idea. “Trust me on this.” was all he said, his eyes lit with a mischievous glint, corners of his mouth pulled up in a crooked grin. Then he grabbed Lance glass and vanished into the crowd in front of them. Lance tried to follow him with his eyes but soon lost track of him. He frowned, staring down at the sole glass of vodka resting on the bar in front of him. What was he doing?

 

Keith was back before Lance got to miss him, a new glass of clear liquid in hand.

“Here.” There was an almost triumphant grin in Keith’s face, his cheeks painted a slight shade of pink. He held out the glass for Lance to take and Lance frowned when the smell of alcohol he expected, didn’t come.

He took a sip and his eyes widened in surprise when he realised it was water. “How did you manage this?” He demanded to know and Keith’s eyes gleamed with pride. Lance asked again. This time he could keep the sheer awe out of his voice. 

“They don’t call me the best pickpocket for nothing.” Keith shot him another blinding smile and Lance had to cling by his self-control by the threads. 

 

Keith, wide-eyed, proud and smiling, was too much. He couldn’t take this. Vines of longing curled themselves around his heart as it started its desperate plea.  _ Kiss me. Kiss me until breath leaves me and stars shine behind my eyelids.  _ Lance halted, laughter, halfway out of his throat stopping, dying down to a rushed exhale. 

Keith frowned. A mixture of confusion and worry and took a step closer. There was still an unnaturally large crowd in front of them, people pushing in close to get a spot at the bar, their chatter warranting close whispers and abolishing personal space. “Is everything okay?” 

Lance blinked at him. A moment passed before he caught himself. “Yes!” Keith was so close, incredibly close, “Sorry, just got lost in thought there for a second.” Lance waved off Keith’s concern, forced casualness jarring and obvious. 

Keith narrowed his eyes at him. “You can talk to me, you know that, right? I’m your six. I’ll be right here when you need me.”

Lance exhaled, tension leaving his shoulders. He took another breath to gather himself, to let his features soften and voice lower again from the heights of his panic. “I know.” He allowed himself a smile, drenched in the warmth Keith made bloom inside his chest. “Thank you.”

Keith smiled back, eyes crinkling up, dimples showing. They were Lance’s favourite. He wanted to shower them with kisses until he could draw their shape with his lips alone. 

“There’s no need to thank me. You do the same for me. You’re there whenever I need you.” Keith took a step closer, a smile still resting on his lips and Lance stared at them like they were his water in the desert, his Northstar when all the maps failed him and all the compasses pointed south. 

Lance licked his lips, the movement more instinct than actual thought. 

It would be so easy. It was barely three inches. Lance would just have to lean in–

 

“Mr Álvarez?” A tall woman had approached them from the back, had completely snuck up on them. At once, Lance straightened up to his full height and proper posture, mask slipping back into place. 

“Yes?” His voice sounded cold and distant, exactly what he had been going for. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Keith’s blink. He was still reeling from being snuck up on but he caught himself as well, lines of his face arranged back into stoicism, his back a rigid steel rod when he turns back to face the woman. 

Lance took her appearance in. She was one of the few women wearing pants. High cut black slacks held up by a pair of black leather suspenders. Her brown hair was cropped short and curled, its strands teasing the sharp cut of her jawline. Her lips formed the vicious red curve of a predator smiling when she heard Lance answer. 

“Marian Goldwill. The Handler is ready to see you now. Follow me.” She shot him a lingering look, on that carried the arrogance of knowledge that was hidden to the rest of the word and the confidence of cat that had gotten her fair share of milk and still was going in for seconds. 

 

Lance began walking but when Keith made moves to follow she stopped them. “I thought it was obvious that you would be going in alone?” She raised a sharp eyebrow at him and pointedly nodded towards Keith. Keith, prone to hot-headedness and owner of a short temper, merely tensed but otherwise remained motionless. Pride flooded Lance’s chest

“And  _ I _ thought it obvious that someone as important as me needs protection?” He raised his chin, eyes narrowing and stared her down. “He stays or we walk.” A risky gamble, one that smarter men wouldn’t have taken. But this was Keith, Lance wouldn’t leave him behind.

She hesitated for a brief moment, then she huffed out an annoyed breath. “Alright, fine.” 

 

They followed her as she slipped through the crowd, her movements catlike and graceful. She led them to a set of eight identical doors and opened the far right one. “Follow me.” Lance nodded and waited for her to enter. 

He followed suit. The door was already falling shut when he turned his head to look over Keith’s shoulder and meet Hunk’s eye through the crowd. There was a fractional second of contact. Then the door fell shut behind him.

 

* * *

 

Shiro pulled the mask over his face and waited. He had his eyes set to a backdoor tucked away between two trash cans. It looked unassuming, a door so utterly ordinary the unordinary could slip through without being noticed.

No one would have guessed that multiple millions of dollars passed through it every few weeks. 

Shiro glanced to the left and the right. Nothing. The alley he was in was completely empty. There were almost no street lights and all of the windows laid dark as if the entire world had already gone to sleep. It felt wrong. No one inside the capital slept. Windows remained illuminated from sundown until dawn. This darkness wasn’t natural. It wasn’t the absence of light, it was the consequence of its removal. 

 

Shiro sneaked his way over to the door, crouched down and got to work. He jammed his two trusted needles into the lock and began to twist. He wouldn’t have to worry about being discovered. None of the drug dealers liked being observed as they went about their way, which was why Arus had numerous blind spots when it came to their security system. 

 

The first  _ click.  _ Shiro kept twisting and turning. He heard no footsteps behind the door but he remained on guard as the second  _ click  _ caused the door to unlock and swing open into a courtyard. His suspicions had been confirmed the facade had no purpose but to conceal the inside. Where there had been nothing but stains, dried dirt and neglect before, there now was luxury and care. 

Shiro stepped into the courtyard and pulled the door shut behind him. The map of the floorplan of Arus was dancing in front of his mind’s eye. So each turn he took came without hesitation, direction wasn’t something he had to concern himself with. He wasn’t far from the staff exit they had used to smuggle Hunk in earlier, nor from the vent, Pidge had crawled through when they had split up earlier. 

The lush grass beneath his feet swallowed the sound of his steps as he circled the building. His destination was the garage in the far back, the one that legally didn’t exist. None of the official floor plans Adam had swiped from administrative officials had contained it and hadn’t it been for one of Lance’s shady dealer friends, they never really would have known of it.

Arus was a place shrouded in mystery and contradiction. The luxurious facade against their dirty back door, marble stone reflection glittering candlelight financed by money the owners of Arus themselves weren’t making against criminals in a parking garage that technically didn’t exist.

 

Shiro ducked into a high bush when he heard a pair of steps behind him. Hushed whispers passed between two men and he strained to listen in. 

“I really just wanna sell this shipment and be done with it. Boss has kept us here long enough, the truck’s gettin’ harder and harder to hide ‘round the city. People’ve been getting suspicious.” One of the two men, the burlier one of the two with arms the size of tree trunks, spat into the grass and scoffed after he sneered out the words.

Shiro didn’t quite catch his partner's response, but he didn’t have to anyway. He already knew they were the ones he was looking for. 

 

He held his breath and followed them. He kept to their shadows and melted into walls whenever he could. The high, well-kept bushes were tall and wide enough to cover his entire frame when needed which made it easy to tail them unnoticed. 

They walked over the garage their steps slow and careless like there wasn’t a thing in the world worth worrying about. Shiro entered right after them, now even farther away. 

 

The garage, different from the courtyard, was well-lit. Hiding would be harder now. He followed them up two stories, weaving his way through cars, crouching low with bated breath. The two men, one blond and one raven, from what he could see, came to a halt in front of a van.

It was a polished white and bore no license plates. It was a terrible choice for a drug vehicle. It stood out like a sore thumb, no one had cars that clean inside the Capital. Shiro circled the van, always just out of sight and earshot of the two men. He frowned when he saw that the back of the van stood wide open. He wanted to laugh, they couldn’t possibly be that careless. Shiro looked around the van only to find one of the two men pulling out a truly disturbingly large booger out of his nose and then mindlessly eating it.  _ Nevermind that then.  _

 

Shiro slowly crawled inside the van to see if it were the right cargo. 

_ “Mespos is also known as blue lightning. It literally glows. You can’t miss it,”  _ Romelle had said when Shiro and Adam had asked her about it. She, herself had seen and taken the drug before. Though, she wouldn’t say when and why. As always: She was always leaving more questions than she answered. 

Shiro carefully pried open one of the lids and peered inside. His vision was flooded with a deep intense blue. This would have to be it. He allowed himself a smile. This had been almost ridiculously easy.

 

He sat down behind one of the stacks of boxes, reached up to his right ear and switched on his comms. “Team, does anyone copy?” He waited for a second then asked again. There was nothing but silence, looming and deafening. But it shouldn’t be. The range on the comms lasted as far as their house on the outskirts of the capital, a garage a few feet away shouldn’t be a problem.

 Shiro forced himself to remain calm. Efforts taken in vain.

He flinched when there was a loud bang. The back doors of the van fell shut and the turn of a lock rang through the cargo hold part. This was bad. Shiro tried again to get through the comms his voice nothing more than a strained whisper but to no avail. The comms remained silent and the van door remained shut.

 

Shiro slowly inched his way forward when he heard that the two men settled into the driver seats. He soundlessly crawled over to the wall separating the driver from the cargo and sat down right beneath the small barred window. He tucked his limbs close to his body and kept them out of the small sliver of light that fell into the otherwise dark cargo hold.

“Just got off the phone with boss. They fell for it.” The smaller one of the two settled into the passenger seat and Shiro heard the sound of boot heels hitting the dashboard. Then there was a smack.

“Get your damn feet off my dashboard, you filthy animal!” The other one snapped and the other one yowled in pain. “What else did she say?”

“Not much else. They are still thinking they’re here to meet up with the mayor’s son Lotor and still think what we’re selling them is actually Mespos. Idiots.” He scoffed and Shiro’s heart skipped ten beats at once. “Also, there’s apparently two of them now. A silent bodyguard and Álvarez, who is apparently ‘almost delightfully pretty’.” The man imitated a coo before making a disgusted noise. 

“Alright then, let’s move.” And with that, the driver turned the key and the engine roared.

 

Masked by the rumble of the engine, Shiro tried again to reach his teammates through the comms. He crawled all the way to the back of the van to avoid being heard and called out for his team. It took him at least a dozen tries before someone answered him.

 

_ “Bartender here, do you copy?” _ Hunk’s low voice was almost completely drowned out by the engine and Shiro had to strain to properly understand him.

He ignored protocol. “Bartender, we have a huge problem. Where are Kei- the liars?” Shiro almost misspoke but caught himself. Panic or no panic, real names on missions were unacceptable. 

Pidge entered the comms.  _ “They already met up with the handlers twenty minutes ago and now in one of the security camera blank spots in the back of the Casino.” _

Shiro bit back a curse. “Oh, no. That’s not good. That’s not good at all.” 

_ “What why?” _ Pidge asked, her voice tense. Hunk made an equally confused noise before being drowned out by the sound of crushing ice and liquid being poured into a glass.

“It’s all a ruse. Whoever led them into the back of Arus doesn’t work for Lotor. We’ve been lied to.”

_ “What?”  _

“Yes.”

_ “How do you know this?” _ Hunk asked.

“I’m the back of a van filled with what I initially thought was Mespos but it _isn’t,”_ Shiro cursed when the van hit a pothole and some of the boxes began to slide dangerously close to him. He tried to push them back but whatever was inside them wouldn’t move.

“They said something about the two of them falling for it.”

_ “Shit, shit, shi-” _

 

The boxes slid closer and pinned Shiro to the wall. For a moment there wasn’t a single bit of air inside Shiro’s lungs. His chest was crushed to the wall and when he opened his mouth no sound made its way out. He foolishly expected to box to move again, to yield to his efforts and give him the space he needed. It didn’t.

The sound Hunk’s and Pidge’s voices blended together until they were nothing more than white noise rushing through his ears. 

Shiro took a gasping breath and the rushing in his ears cleared enough for him to hear that Hunk was running now. Shiro wanted to admonish him for leaving his post but he still couldn’t make a sound. 

Air rushed out and in and out and in... until it didn’t rush back in again. His throat closed up. Panic set in. It rose like the waves of an ocean, building up a storm, readying for devastation.

His ears briefly cleared before the pounding of his blood drowned out all sounds again. _. “-Shiro hold o-.... we’ll fix this.”_

Then the waves crashed together over his head and pulled him under.  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you made it!!! thank you for reading!!
> 
> i would also like to thank my friend Logan for being an Actual Angel and helping me with fixing my horrendous english.  
> if you liked this and actually would like to see more of my writing:
> 
> -[plant a seed (we'll make it grow)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18794467): post s8, canon divergent, slowburn klance  
> and  
> -[And Yet, The Sun Will Rise Again](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15206018/chapters/35268089): multi-chaptered dystopian AU, with everyone being a badass and also slowburn klance  
> these would be a good place to start!!
> 
> you can also find me on [my twitter!!](https://twitter.com/cxnfiscated) so hit me up if u want to yell or like some general clownery.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shit hits the fan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hELLO everyone. i won't keep you for long. i'm sorry it's been a while but here it is. hope u enjoy  
> Shoutout to [Eileen](https://twitter.com/astralscrivener) for being the realest bitch out there and honestly being the best hypeman this fic could have had. I love u.

Adam passed the heart ace for the fifth time, the signal that he had to deal the cards. He brought all of them together with a shuffling trick that wasn’t all that impressive but _looked_ impressive which was all that he was going for tonight. He let his eyes wander across the table, making sure that he had their attention on the cards at all times. No one could accuse him of cheating when there were people to vouch for him being transparent all the time.

 

Then a firm grip broke his focus.

Adam turned his head, a sharp reprimand already on his tongue – everyone knew not to talk to a card dealer who was already shuffling – when he realised it was Hunk. The reprimand slipped right off his tongue, seamlessly bleeding into forced neutrality.

“How can I help you?”

“There is a small issue with the roster, Sir. Paul is supposed to take this table.” Adam’s eyes flicked back to the man behind Hunk who was apparently Paul. Short, already sweating and shaking, Paul. Tortured Penguin Paul who didn’t look fit to hold a business card, let alone a set of playing cards. But Adam didn’t get to enjoy his mental quip because Hunk’s eyes were filled to the brim with concern and the set of his mouth told Adam that something bad had happened.

“If you’d please follow me, Sir.” There was a sense of urgency in Hunks's eyes that his voice masked entirely that threw Adam off completely when he handed the deck of cards to Paul. He had already let go of them when he remembered he had a role to play.

“These are shuffled well enough. Just deal them.” Adam shot Paul an icy stare when he opened his mouth to object. 

_“Deal them.”_ Adam rose to his full height and glared Paul down. 

Hunk gripped the crook of his elbow to steer him away. “Best not to disturb the patrons, or no, Sir?” His tone was smooth but his grip was pure steel.

“Of course, you’re right. Best of luck, Ladies and Gentlemen.” He nodded at the players seated at the table and did his best not to react to the obvious concern in Romelle’s eyes. The last thing they needed now was to establish a connection that linked him to Allura. 

Adam didn’t receive an answer. But that was to be expected. It was the gesture that counted for its own sake, not for the reaction that followed it. No one could expect spoiled young ladies and gentlemen to know what syllables made up the words _‘Thank you’._

 

His concern rose as him and Hunk wove their way through the crowds of patrons watching games of pool and cards, just narrowly avoiding trays of hors d’œvres and flutes of champagne. They stepped out into the hallway that led into the kitchen and Hunk pulled him into a supply closet tucked away into an alcove. Dust particles swirled in the dim lighting when Hunk pulled the door shut. 

“What’s going on?” Adam hissed. 

“It’s Shiro.”

_“What happened?”_ Adam forced the words out through to rows of clenched teeth. He gripped the shelf behind him, his knuckles pulsing in time with his heartbeat, now twice as fast as it had been before.

“I’m not sure,” Hunk’s entire body tensed, his eyes wide and afraid, “He seems to have lost consciousness or at least he isn’t answering.”

 Adam’s heartbeat ground to a halt.

He almost gave in to the panic rising in his chest, the fear gripping his throat but he didn’t do that. He had a team that relied on him. When he spoke again his voice was a show of false composure. “Go back to your post. I’ll take it from here.” He caught Hunk’s eye and nodded, “I’ll fix this, alright.” He held onto his gaze until he saw Hunk’s wide shoulders sag and watched him take multiple deep breaths.

“Got it.” Hunk nodded and tried himself at a smile that ended up being shaky at best. Adam subtly wiped his sweaty hands on the legs of his trousers and exhaled when the door fell shut behind Hunk.

 

He switched off the comms, his breath caught on its way out, his eyes now wide with concern that there was no one to witness it. For a moment there was silence, then… heavy breathing.

“Takashi?” Syllables separated by a voice cracking under the pressure. 

A gasp. _“Adam!”_ Takashi was a sailor floating at sea. Alone. Scared. Drowning.

“Takashi… What’s going on? Are you hurt?” Chunks of his composure abandoned him one at a time. He was a panting mess, helpless. Useless. Takashi was hurt and scared and Adam was useless. He balled his hands into fists.

_“I can’t- I can’t move. The car’s moving but I can’t- I can’t-”_ Takashi forced out breathlessly.

“Shh, shhh. Takashi, you need to calm down.” That was more than rich coming from him, dangling off the brink of a panic attack but Adam pushed all of his own goddamn panic aside. Takashi needed him and Adam would be there for him.

_“I can’t!”_ He choked out, his voice cracking and interrupted by the rev of an engine. The panic inside Adam spiked.

“Yes, you can. Breathe with me. In: one, two, three, four. Hold: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. And Exhale: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.” The numbers worked for himself as much as for Takashi. They formed a line – a lifeline – one they both could hold onto.

there was nothing but breathing. Two sets of breath, one slow and controlled the other one rapid and gasping. Until it, too, finally calmed. 

 

The revving engine slowed to a low rumble and Takashi’s voice was steadier when he spoke. “I’m sor-”

“Don’t.” Adam interrupted him. “Just don’t”

Takashi didn’t have the power to argue and Adam wouldn’t let him anyway. “I’ve lost track of where we’re going but it seems like they’re driving circles.”

Adam frowned. That wouldn’t make sense.

“I know.” Takashi whispered back, his voice still shaky, “You’ll hear from me again when I know more about our general situation.”

“Alright…” Adam took a deep breath, “Stay safe out there. You really scared me there.”

“I’m sor-” 

“Don’t.”

“Right,” Takashi took an equally deep breath and Adam wanted nothing more than reach out and smooth out the tension he carried in his voice and body, “I love you.”

Something inside Adam melted, turned a malleable and slotted back into place. 

“I love you too.” The line went dead and Adam took a deep breath to gather himself, to slip back into the role he had to play.

Until he was the picture of cool professionalism again, a mirror-smooth surface, a man with a purpose. 

 

The lock inside the door turned. Adam’s heart shot up to his throat as he froze in his tracks. The door swung open and revealed Curtis. 

Curtis who remained hovering above the doorstep, his hand still on the doorknob.

“Adam?” He gasped, his eyes as wide as saucepans.

 

But Adam couldn’t answer. His racing heart blocked any air that might have carried words somewhere down the line and blocked any thought that might have passed through his head. He didn’t think. Instinct took over.

 

Adam punched Curtis. Punched him hard.

 

Curtis’ head snapped back, as he collapsed into a heap on the floor. Adam glanced down at his fist, still cloaked in his white silken glove that was now marred with bright reat bloodstains and glanced back down at Curtis who was out cold. 

Common sense returned to him.

 

Without thinking about the gravity of what he had just done – worrying would have to come later – he grabbed Curtis’ armpits and dragged him back into the supply closet. He blindly reached for a dirty dishtowel someone had thrown onto one of the shelves and fashioned a makeshift gag out of it.

His eyes snapped down to Curtis's tie. An idea formed. 

He practically ripped off the tie and bound Curtis’ hands to shelf furthest in the back. 

 

Then he stepped back to assess his poor job of tying him up. There was truly no way that Curtis wouldn’t be found sooner or later. He was a bartender, someone was bound to come looking from him. But Adam couldn’t dwell on that now. 

 

He had a heist to complete.

 

* * *

 

Allura had made a dozen enemies and counting.

Romelle couldn’t be more proud. She put her gloved hands down onto Allura’s shoulders and let the corner of her mouth curl up into a sharp smile. She didn’t have any other purpose at this table. Never one for a card game, Romelle knew neither rules nor strategy. She watched cards being played, watched good poker faces and internally laughed at the bad ones, her own face always one of sharp arrogance and careful disinterest. 

She was the serpent coiled around Allura’s graceful shoulders. She was the element of danger that enhanced beauty.

 

Romelle let her hands wander a languorous path across the gemstones that sparkled across Allura’s chest. Romelle raised an eyebrow at Griffin when his gaze lingered a beat to long and her sharp grin morphed into amusement as she watched him scramble to hide his embarrassment behind his previous arrogance. He worked fast, that much she would grant him. Within the blink of an eye, all blush vanished from his tanned skin and he looked as decadently bored as ever.

But Romelle, too fond of making people come undone, had too trained of an eye to be fooled. She flashed him a smile and watched with silent glee as he visibly swallowed.

 

Allura reached out, her hands white, gloved hands a pair of swans and scooped up the chips that now belonged to her. And five different sets of eyes followed her closely. The atmosphere at the table shifted, cockiness vanished and made way for deep suspicion. Romelle narrowed her eyes when the dealer paused before he began shuffling his deck anew. Allura handed her cards to a servant boy who gathered up the cards at the table to be shuffled into the dealer's deck.

Allura’s card counting skills had proven to be more than self-reliant. Adam had left six rounds ago and since then Allura had only lost two. She was well-capable of fully winning this thing and would do so in a landslide if she wasn’t stopped. Her focus didn’t once shift from the court deck, not even when Romelle’s hands drifted too far down on accident, skimming the tops of her breasts and disturbing the shoulder necklace. 

 

“You have proven a worthy opponent,” Griffin took a sip of his martini, his mask of careless arrogance now fully restored. Romelle’s eyes fell down onto his blue-stained lips. She knew that particular shade. Mespos.

“More than worthy, you mean,” Allura corrected, her voice a silken drawl. She rested her jaw on top of her fist and shot him a grin dripping with the same kind of arrogance he was trying to portray. 

“Perhaps a bit _too_ worthy, don’t you think?” The short-haired blonde next to him interjected. Her eyes carried nothing but steel. Aside from Allura, she was the most powerful player on the board right now if judged by the number of chips. And if Romelle had understood Alliura’s strategy correctly she would be targeting _her_ next. 

“What are you implying?” Allura’s shoulders drew up with tension which caused Romelle to tighten her grip on them but her voice remained unfettered. 

“Your play has shown me that you are smart enough to figure out on your own what I mean.” Leifsdottir leaned forward, her lean forearms dotted by beauty marks and taut with tension. Allura mirrored her posture.

 

There they stayed; two women already half at war. James Griffin might have been the mouthpiece of the group but Leifsdottir was the analyst, the one who saw the hidden strands of strategy and knew how to pull at them to turn the tides in her favour. 

“Counting cards is prohibited. But I’m sure you know that.” The complete lack of emotion on her face unsettled Romelle. She was an open book written in a foreign language, Romelle could look at her but didn’t have the tools to decipher it.

“Are you accusing me of cheating then?” Allura angled her head, “Because, if so, that would be terribly rude and inconvenient.” Her voice remained in its drawl, but Romelle felt the tension beneath her fingers. 

Movement at the table stilled. They were the eye of the storm. Around them the hustle and bustle of rich people losing money, cigars spewing thick wafts of smoke, dresses and jewellery caught in a glittery swirl; their table completely still.

 

“No, she isn’t accusing you of cheating.” Another woman had just appeared. Her brown, gloveless hands came to rest on the back of Leifdottir’s chair. She straightened her glasses and shot Allura a manic grin. Romelle tensed at her and palmed the knife tucked away above the slit in her dress. It was more to reassure herself that for anything else. There was no way she could stab someone in plain sight. But then again, a well-placed threat was always a nice thing to have. 

“Because I already have.” Her mouth split into a devilish grin as out of nowhere the crowd behind Romelle parted to reveal two burly security guards. _Shit._

 

“Well, see,” Allura jumped to her feet and grabbed Romelle’s hand, “And I can’t let that happen now, can I?” Her chair clattered down onto the floor as she dragged Romelle sideways into the crowd. The multiple outcries that followed them were silenced by the white noise that filled the Casino. Allura pulled her further and further into the crowd and slipped through bodies and trays like a fish slipped through water. It bought them some time. Neither of them was particularly tall – even in heels – and they had the element of surprise on their side.

 

Allura steered them towards the row of seven doors in the back of the room, the same ones Keith and Lance had vanished into earlier. They were almost there. They rounded the circular fountain in the centre of the room and narrowly avoided colliding with a waiter. 

There was a yell and Romelle was yanked around.  

 

Her fist was already balled. Her body was taut. Ready to strike. Ready to _hurt._ When the first thing she saw was a male back. _Hunk’s back._ Hunk who was carrying a big tray of champagne glasses and was making a show of playing the confused intern. 

“Would you like something to drink, sir?” He asked, his voice purposefully loud and cheerful. Like there wasn’t a single thing in the world he could possibly worry about. Romelle stood gaping. Her mind blank, her heart hammering. 

 

Hunk stepped onto her foot and the pain brought her back to life. Hunk used his bulk to hide her behind him and moved with the security guards whenever they tried to get around him. “What are you doing? _Run!”_ He hissed out between clenched teeth and she kicked back into gear. With a muttered thank you, she turned around bolted towards the door where Allura was already waiting for her. 

She dragged her into a dark hallway and let the door bang shut behind them.

 

“What the hell was _that?”_ Allura grabbed her cheeks and met her eyes. She was furious that much Romelle could tell, her hands were still trembling with residue adrenalin, her breaths short, hard outbursts. 

“I… I don’t know I got confused and I.. I just froze I guess.” Romelle cast her eyes to the floor as her cheeks began to burn. 

Allura acutely aware of the urgency of their situation only pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, mumbled a hushed _it’s okay love,_ and dragged her on. Romelle did her best to shake the fear that had gotten a hold of her chest. Now wasn’t the time to panic. She could dwell on this later. 

 

It took a few steps and breaths but the panic raging inside her subsided and her mind cleared enough to do more than just mindlessly follow Allura. Like actually remembering floor plans.

 “Turn right on the next one.” 

“Why?” Allura turned but didn’t slow down.

“There’s the staff room for the security personnel at the end of that hallway and there are not enough doors for us to have a viable exit strategy.” 

“Shit, you’re right.” Allura turned right and collided straight with a chest. 

 

Romelle caught her with one arm and had her gun out in the other. 

 

“Allura?” A male voice called out and Romelle froze.

“ _Adam?”_ Romelle lowered the gun as Allura straightened her footing.

“What are you doing here?” Adam and Allura asked simultaneously. 

She pointed at him. “You first.”

“I ran into Curtis,” Adam admitted and carded a hand through his hair.

_“You did what?”_ Romelle blurted out as she dragged both of them on. Disaster or not, they couldn’t afford to stop moving.

“I fucked up, alright? He saw me and I knocked him out before he could say anything.” Adam hissed out and there were two deep red splotches on his cheeks as he wiped the sweat of his brow. He looked like he had walked straight through a hurricane and lived to tell the tale. his hair was a mess, carded through, again and again, streaked in both gel and despair, his tie was crooked, one of the buttons on his shirt were missing and his jacket remained unbuttoned and in need of an adjustment. 

 

“Where is he now?” Allura was composure given a human form.

“Bound and gagged inside a closet. A locked closet.” Adam hastily added when he saw what Romelle assumed was pure disbelief on her and Allura’s faces.

Well at least until she lost it. Completely. “I am so sorry but you punched your ex, tied him up, gagged him _and_ locked him into a closet?” She was about to piss herself with laughter. 

He scowled. “Could you not?”

“Oh, I wish I couldn’t.” Her laughter didn’t let up but she bit down on her bottom lip when Allura smacked her onto the arm.

“Not now!” She hissed, “You can laugh at him later.” She shot Romelle a stern look.

“Oh, and I will!” Romelle wheezed out before forcing herself to take a couple of deep breaths. “Okay, I’m good. For now.”

Adam’s scowl deepened. “Fine. Now-”

 

_“Guys, we might have a problem.”_ Pidge’s tense voice crackled through their comms and all traces of laughter bled away. 

“What is it?” Adam asked, his scowl morphing into worry.

_“I can locate neither Lance nor Keith and none of their signals can’t reach me. They should be out of the back of the Casino. I can’t figure out what’s taking them so long.”_

Allura frowned. “You think something went wrong. Something’s happened to them?”

_“I can’t rule it out, no.”_ Romelle hissed out a curse. 

“Well then, let's get them. We know by now that we have been tricked and half the Casino’s security is already on our tail. Let’s count this mission as the failure it is and get the hell out of here.” Romelle crossed her arms and shot Adam and Allura a serious look. 

She saw both of them at war with themselves. They wouldn’t be able to let this mission go easily. But there was no point in dying for something that wouldn’t help anyone either. They had been tricked and outmaneuvered – it was time to go.

 

“There they are!” Someone yelled and Romelle kicked into action. She grabbed both Adam and Allura and bolted. 

Their steps were swallowed by the thick carpet and even though the lighting in the hallways was dim at best they still had been seen, now it was only a question of time until they were caught.

“What do we do now?” Allura hissed out, panting. Running in both the dress and the shoes couldn’t be comfortable. Romelle had lost feeling inside her toes an hour ago. Nonetheless, she sped up, toes and dresses be damned and, surprisingly, their lead got bigger.

Romelle was yanked back when Adam abruptly halted and tore open a door to their right. He all but pushed them inside. And locked the door behind them. By the time their pursuers made it to the hallway, it looked like they had never been there.

 

* * *

 

To say Lance was tense would be a gross understatement, to say he didn’t keep his composure regardless was an even bigger one. Keith kept his eyes pinned to the back of Lance’s neck as the followed the woman deeper and deeper into the web of hallways that formed the back of Arus. 

Their steps were silent beneath their feet and around them were nothing but rows upon rows of doors, adorned by works of art that had been scattered among them. There might have been a special order to them, but to Keith’s eye, there was none. Each hallway they turned into, looked exactly the same as the last and Keith despite trying his best at counting turns and and doors, lost track.

“Where are you leading us?” Lance’s voice carried the sharp crisp accent everyone they had spoken with that night possessed, the kind that meant you had a bank account full enough that going to sleep hungry was a concept you knew in theory and scoffed at whenever you thought about it. His back was ramrod straight as he pinned her with a sharp gaze. Keith was once again in awe with how much he actually _wanted_ to believe his act. How much he to found himself tricked by it, ensnared in its web.

“The handler demanded the highest security measures and privacy and I intend to fulfill his wish.”

 

Keith focused his whole attention on her and tried to gather as many clues as he could. He wasn’t as good as it as Lance was ─ not by far ─ but Lance had been a good teacher and he had been more than eager to learn. 

_People tell you their whole life story without you having to ask. It’s right there for you to see, just connect the dots, Keith._ Lance’s voice had caused shivers back then and almost did the same now despite being a mere memory. 

Keith focused. Her short brown curls were unevenly cropped at the back of her neck. The length of the strands and the angle at which they were cropped suggested she had cut them herself. That was strange. No one that rich would crop their own hair, fashion choice or not. Even the staff had been well-coiffed.

Keith frowned. 

Her shirt, a crisp white and freshly ironed, showed no visible signs of sweat, despite the black room being almost stiflingly hot. She must have entered recently, then. It was too dark for him to see the state of her black boots peeking out beneath the hem of her slacks. All in all, she looked inconspicuous.  Something was off here but he couldn’t figure out what. 

 

They came to a halt before a set of wooden doors, each adorned with gold trimming. She stepped aside so that both of them could get closer. Her eyes carried a glimmer that put Keith on edge as if she knew something they didn’t. Keith subtly checked if his gun was still where he’d stashed it earlier. It was too small for him to actually do any damage with it. His aim wasn’t that good. But Lance’s ─ who they’d agreed would go in unarmed ─ was. _He_ could do sizeable damage with it. 

 

Keith balled his hands into fists before consciously taking the tension out of them. He reached into the back of his mind and conjured up a memory of Lance. He had tucked it away into the far off crevice of his mind. He imagined its edges rounded and worn, a well-loved book with a broken spine and dog-eared pages. 

_‘Whenever you find you find bits of yourself bleeding into the persona your presenting, if your cover starts slipping, remember this. Your name, your goal, and what you should be feeling. Repeat it and when you’re done, do it again and again. A truth, in that case, is just a lie we’ve heard often enough so that it sounds familiar.”_

Lance and he had just come back from an undercover mission gone wrong, their necks, faces, and hair were still caked in dried blood, their hands still shaking with residue adrenaline and there should have been no way _anything_ that came out of Lance’s mouth could sound reassuring and yet… The tension behind his breastbone weakened, the coil at the bottom of his stomach loosened, breaths came easier and the world snapped into focus. 

It hadn’t necessarily been what Lance had said but _how_ he’d said it. With the unshakeable certainty of a teacher who was looking at a student that had potential, who was looking at a student who hadn’t gotten it right yet, but _would_ if given enough time. 

 

I am a bodyguard, my job is to keep Lance safe and I feel suspicious of Goodwill.

I am a bodyguard, my job is to keep Lance safe and I feel suspicious of Goodwill.

I am a bodyguard, my job is to keep Lance safe and I feel suspicious of Goodwill.

I am a bodyguard, my job is to keep Lance safe and I feel suspicious of Goodwill.

He had almost convinced himself by the time the door swung open.

 

The room just like the rest of the casino was a greedy man’s wet dream. The kind that had you grab a handful of melatonin pills and fall right back into bed for an encore. The room was circular with not a single corner in sight. There was just deep red wallpaper adorned golden lace patterns to keep the eye occupied and to distract from the lack of windows. The furniture was artistically crafted from dark wood and looked like it should be displayed in a museum rather used. 

But it all paled when Keith’s eyes fell on the woman waiting for them at the center of the room. She, too, was wearing a set of high-waisted pants and a button-up shirt. But she wore deep blue, adorned with gold trimmings rather than a simple black and white ensemble. Her thick brown hair was braided into what Keith assumed were two braids, skillfully wrapped around her head and secured by glittering pins. They looked like a pair of snakes playing at being a crown. 

 

Lance and Goodwill came to a halt in front of a small coffee table on which sat a sleek black suitcase. Lance spoke when she made no moves to introduce herself.

“You are not the mayor’s son. Or anyone else’s son for that matter.” He only sounded slightly annoyed which was more than Keith would have been able to do if he opened his mouth, so he opted for a frown instead.

The woman smiled, her grin the edge of a knife. “No, I am not. But I can still give you what you want.” She spoke with the assuredness of someone who has had power and authority for a long time and knew how to wield it. 

If Lance was intimidated he hid it well. “I’ll be the judge of that. Where’s Lotor?” Lance raised his chin and his voice sharpened. He was getting impatient and Keith was doing the same. This felt wrong, like a trap they were walking into with open eyes and ears.

“You didn’t think the mayor’s son would risk being seen in such an establishment during campaigning season, did you?” Her voice took on a mocking edge, sharp and biting. Keith tensed.

“I think we all already know how this election will pan out.” Lance angled his head and his fingers twitched as if to reach for his gun. A gun he didn’t currently have. 

“Who are you?” The tension inside the room jumped up a notch and Keith wasn’t the only one who was getting antsy. Goodwill’s mask of calm and stoicism was starting to fray. 

As soon as they had stepped into the room she hadn’t stopped sizing Lance up, her eyes jumping up and down constantly trying to gauge how much of a threat he’d actually be but constantly coming up with nothing. 

Keith was deeply familiar with that feeling. He remembers being on the other side of Lance’s gun barrel, his nerves a frayed mess, mind frantically trying to discern bluffing from reality and coming up with different results every other second. His heart had continued hammering even after Lance had dropped the weapon and they had established that they would need to work together to shake their pursuers. Even after Lance had shot him a dazzling grin, had introduced himself and pinned him with his too blue eyes until Keith did the same.

Though it had hammered for an entirely different reason than fear.

 

Keith raised an eyebrow at her to let her know she’s been discovered. Then the communicator stuck to the side of his neck flared up. Romelle’s voice rang through the comms. _“Keith! You….. out of there! …. Trap! Set up!”_ Keith only got half of what she said before the signal cut out again but it had just been enough. He pulled his spine ramrod-straight but otherwise remained motionless. He couldn’t afford to be foolish right now. 

 

“You don’t need to know that. I have what you came for.” She shot Lance a sharp grin and took a step forward and turned the suitcase around. “Go ahead, open it.” Lance opened up the suitcase and what greeted him was a midnight blue powder, so dark it actually seemed black. It was put in little glass containers, arranged in neat rows.

Keith frowned. 

 

_“Mespos is also known as blue lightning. It literally glows. You can’t miss it.”_

This powder was a lot. But it wasn’t glowing.

 

Keith’s eyes darted to Lance. He was still playing the role of the businessman, carefully inspecting the merchandise before considering the purchase. Lance let the lid of the suitcase snap shut and set it down next to his feet. 

“Where’s the rest of it?” Lance asked, his tone of voice amicable and content.  But there was something else. He shifted his weight, just slightly to his left foot, until his right heel was just about half an inch off the floor.

That was the only warning Keith would get. 

 

The woman opened her mouth to answer and Lance kicked the table and he kicked it hard. Seemingly not slowed at all by the thick carpet, it slid across the floor and hit Goodwill in the shins. She went down swinging and cursing and Lance’s hand shot out for the gun. Keith practically threw it at him and by the time Goodwill’s head shot back up she was met with the business end of Lance’s gun. 

 

She growled but remained on her knees. Keith remained half a step behind Lance, one eye on Goodwill, the other one on her partner. His entire mind caught in confusion. What was Lance doing?

Lance turned towards Goodwill’s partner who had paled and curled her hands into trembling fists that already started turning white at the knuckles. “You will walk over to my bodyguard and kneel,” Lance barked out the order with a sense of authority that was entirely stolen from Shiro. But it worked.  

 

The woman walked over to Keith raised her hands and knelt. Lance had already turned his attention back to Goodwill, absolutely certain that his order would be followed. The actual Lance didn’t have that kind of confidence, didn’t command that kind of respect but this one – with eyes that resembled glaciers and a voice that carried steel – this one was… different.

 

A tense silence spread, as neither one of the women seemed to draw a breath. Goodwill’s hand twitched towards her chest and Lance unlocked the pistol. 

“Hand me your gun, Goodwill.”

“How- ?”Goodwill ground out between clenched teeth. A brown strand of hair fell into her eyes, that pinned Lance with a murderous stare. Paired with her flaming cheeks and panting she looked like a bull getting ready to attack.

 Lance scoffed. “Oh, please, you’re not used to carrying a gun. You kept subtly touching your chest to see if it was still there.” Lance was arrogance incarnate and at least half of it was genuine.

  _Oh, and you couldn’t have warned me, idiot?_ Keith was going to murder him when all of this was done.

“Not very smart on your side.” Insult to injury.

 

Something inside Keith’s mind fell into place. They had done this before. Not like this. But this… _play,_ this situation, they had been here before, he _knew_ what Lance wanted him to do. 

Lance took a few steps closer and Keith’s hands came down on the woman’s shoulders in front of him when she twitched as though she wanted to attack him. Lance’s gun barrel came to rest between her eyebrows. 

“Hilt first,” he added when Goodwill reached into the cleavage of her blouse and pulled out a black pistol roughly size of Lance’s. Lance took it from her grip and stepped back until he was back to their initial distance.

Lance threw Keith the second gun and nodded at him. A passage of power, carried by nothing but a gesture. Lance handed him the reigns. He had managed to get them both on their knees and disarmed he trusted that Keith was better at the rest. Keith would take the lead and Lance would follow him without hesitation

 

“Okay, what’s your deal?” Keith barked. “You lure us in here with a false promise that we are to receive a shipment of Mespos in the name of the Mayor’s son, but I see neither the son nor is that,” Keith thrust his chin at the suitcase on the floor, “actually any Mespos.” This was familiar ground. While Lance knew how to spin silken pleasantries and could ease even the grouchiest of minds, Keith knew to make roughness effective. Relished in it even. 

 

Keith pressed the gun barrel into the woman’s neck and tightened the grip he had on her shoulder. “Silence will get you nowhere,” He growled out and Lance out on an equally menacing look as he mirrored Keith’s actions.

Keith squeezed the woman’s shoulder and focused on giving his voice a cruel edge. He pinned Goodwill with a glare. “You remain silent and she takes the fall.” Keith looked at Goodwill and unlocked his gun. It was obvious that Goodwill would rather die than let her partner come to any harm. Goodwill had had too much fondness, too much worry, in her eyes when she regarded her. Keith knew the feeling too well, he knew he’d bear the same look on his face if Lance were the one standing at gunpoint. 

“Alright fine. I’ll talk, just… don’t hurt her.” Goodwill pinned him with a hard stare.

“Marian _.”_ The woman warned

“ _Ada-_ ”

“Lovely of you to cooperate,” Lance drawled out his tone a silken show of mockery. A matching grin rose on his face when Ada in turn growled at him. 

 

“We lied to you,” Goodwill confessed.

“That much I’ve gathered,” Lance responded dryly just as Keith drawled out a sharp _not good enough._

“What was your plan? To essentially just scam us into giving you money? Go on a nice vacation together?”

“We needed the money,” Goodwill bit out.

“You _lied_ to us,” Keith shot back. _You had a gun. You would have hurt Lance. Would have killed-_

 

“Fine, then,” Lance cut in, “Your plan didn’t work out.” He shook his head when he saw Keith open his mouth and glance down at Keith’s hand holding the gun. It had begun to shake. Then his eyes darted back up. Inside his gaze a clear message. _Let me handle this._

 “Here’s how we’ll do this: We’ll take this baby,” he gave his gun a shake as if to torment them further, “and leave. You will not follow us. You will not try _anything_ or the wallpaper won’t be the only thing red in here. Understood?”

Both Goodwill and Jeanine remained quiet.

“I said, _understood?”_

Keith listened to Goodwill drawing breath, but when she opened her mouth it wasn’t to answer his question. She abruptly jerked her head to the right, away from the gun and began to speak. Into her shoulder. Into a communicator taped to her shoulder.

“Yes, hello Security, we have a four-o- eight in the heart room.”

 

It happened before either he or Lance could realise it. Keith shot Lance a panicked look. “408, that’s code for unauthorised intruders,” Lance whispered and Goodwill pushed out a shrill bout of laughter.

“Bet you didn’t see that coming, huh? They’ll be onto you in seconds.” Keith bit out a curse before spinning the gun in his hand. He used the butt of it to smack it against Ada’s head and she went slack inside his grip. Keith watched Lance do the same and then gripped his hand to make a bolt for the door. 

 

They spilled into the hallway like a wave tearing through a dam. 

“Fucking hell,” Lance spat out as they kept on sprinting down the hallway. Not that they had that much of a chance. The casino was working against them here. The way the inside of Arus was set up meant that they would have run straight _towards_ their pursuers before they could actually start running away from them. So, that was what they were doing. Running face first into a gun and hoping they could turn away from it before it began to fire. 

 

They were two burly men, dress sharply in suits and bald. Keith briefly saw the barrel of a gun before Lance’s grip on his hand tightened and pulled him into a hallway to their right. They had the advantage of speed over size, meaning even though they had run into them head-on, the guards took just a second too long to actually turn. A precious second that would come in handy later. 

“Do you actually know where we’re going?” Keith panted out, the sound almost swallowed by the sharp staccato of their steps. They turned again and again. 

“I memorised some parts of the floorplans so this should work,” Lance answered over his shoulder. 

“Let’s hope so,” Keith growled but the sound was drowned out before it could reach Lance’s ears. They turned, twice more before Lance pulled them into a room. They kept their ears to the door and only exhaled when they heard a pair of heavy steps run past.

 

Keith’s eyes swept over the room. It was as luxurious as the heart room but blue and a… bedroom? Keith tried and failed to contain his panting.

“This is one of the so-called ‘Bridge Rooms one of five rooms that have two exit points instead of one.” Lance peeled himself off the door and carded a hand through his hair. His brown strands have broken out from their waxen cage and Keith found himself mesmerised for a moment. Lance turned to face him, his eyes alive with adrenaline, his cheeks stained red with exhaustion and opened his mouth. 

 

The cupboard to their right burst open and revealed Allura, Romelle and Adam, just as disheveled as Keith and Lance. 

“What are _you_ doing here?” Lance blurted out, eyes wide, voice rising and cracking. All remnants of the persona he had played gone from his face.

“Mission went south-” Romelle explained. 

“Had to bolt-” Allura added.

“Punched Curtis,” Adam interjected.

At that Lance lost it. “Adam, you did what?”

Adam looked at his shoes, red rising high on his cheeks. “It was an emergency.”

“Does it matter?” Allura interrupted, before turning to face Lance and Keith, “Did you find out that it was all scam?”

Keith sputtered. _“You knew?”_

“Only when it was too late.” Adam answered, “We couldn’t reach you through the comms when we found out.”

Lance exhaled a curse and Keith wanted to join in. “So we essentially fucked up everything we could,” realised dryly. “We didn’t get the shipment, we got caught cheating and we ran into the _one_ person not supposed to see us.” He exhaled and rubbed his palms over his face.

“How about we call this piece of shit mission a day and leave.” Romelle tugged off her gloves and flexed her hands. Even though the gloves were made out of silk her knuckles shone even angrier than they had before.

“But we─”

 

There were three bangs on the door. “Security open up!” snapped a female voice. 

Keith flinched. “Holy shit! What do we do?” Keith hissed.

“Not answer, maybe? Like a sane person?” Romelle hissed back, looking almost furious with her glinting eyes and flushed cheeks.

“And have them break in the door? Are you serious?” Keith replied just as fiercely.

 

Lance began to smack his shoulder. “What?”

“Those aren’t our security guards. There was no woman chasing us and I didn’t hear any heels either.” Lance looked almost giddy a mad glint to match his smile. Keith didn’t catch on.

But Allura did. She gasped, caught Lance's eye and Keith watch a thought develop in two places at once. “The Honeymoon Scenario!” 

_“Security, open up! That is an order.”_

 

“What!?” Keith and Romelle exclaimed. 

Adam pointed at Keith and Lance. “You two will have to pose as a couple, that was too busy lovemaking to open the door.”

And he was dead serious, too. “This will never work.” Keith objected.

“You’d be surprised how often that works. People get uncomfortable around couples especially when it comes to sex,” Lance explained, already ruffling his hair, “Besides we don’t have an alternative. They will break down the door any minute now.” He was unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his belt. 

“Don’t just stare.” Allura snapped before grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket and tugging him closer. She began ruffling his hair, while Romelle pinched his cheek. Within mere seconds he looked like Lance clothes ruffled, buttons undone, face flush with what should pass as love. 

“Now go answer.”Lance told him, “I’ll be right behind you and make sure you won’t have to do any work besides looking good, yeah?” Lance gave him a gentle shove towards the door and the door handle was in his hand before he even got the chance to dwell on the comment. He filed it away for future consideration. This was more pressing now. He took a deep breath, waited until everyone behind him had ducked to the part of the room you couldn’t see from the door and pulled.

 

“Excuse me, Ma’am, is there a problem?” He did his best at sounding confused and docile and the perplexity on the officer’s face told him it at least somewhat worked. She stared at him wide-eyed and slightly gaping.

“I’m terribly sorry, Sir. Are you alone in that room?” She dropped the gruff tone from earlier and adopted a slow and careful way of speaking. 

“No, there’s also─” 

“Darling, what are you doing?” Lance drawled as he plastered his naked torso to Keith’s back. Keith, to his credit, only mildly flinched. Apparently, Lance and Allura had chosen to forego the shirt entirely. Great.

“And who is that?” The officer asked flatly.

“My husband,” Keith replied sheepishly and patted Lance’s head when he began to nuzzle his throat, “who is terrible at holding his liquor. Let me tell you, Ma’am.” Keith smiled like they were both in on a secret and he watched the corners of her mouth quirk up in amusement. So far so good. Now bring it home, Kogane.

“May I enter?” The officer asked very politely and Keith began to sweat. He opened his mouth but his voice failed him.

 

Lance took over seamlessly.

 

“Oh, no, that’s a _terrible_ idea, Ma’am.” Lance slurred out, his hot breath fanning over Keith’s cheek and his arms tightening around Keith. “My love and I made a terrible, terrible mess, that is simply too embarrassing to show. You must know how it is to be on a honeymoon, yes?” Lance let out a drunken giggle and pressed a kiss to Keith’s cheek. Keith felt set ablaze.

The security guard looked down at her own wedding band that Keith hadn’t seen up until now and smiled fondly. “Oh, to be freshly in love, yes,” She levelled her smile at them and Keith knew they had won this. 

“Alright, then. Duty calls. You two, enjoy your honeymoon. Don’t cause too much damage alright?” She playfully waggled her finger and bid them goodbye. Lance and Keith watched her turn down the hallway before finally shutting the door.

 

For the first time in minutes, Keith fully exhaled. Lance tightened his grip one last time and leaned in to whisper into his ear, his lips nothing but a tease on Keith’s skin. 

“Well done, love.” Before peeling himself off Keith and putting his shirt back on. 

“Told you it would work.” He now said loud enough the rest could hear but his eyes still bore into Keith’s. Keith was as if entranced as he watched Lance re-do all the buttons on his shirt and it took him a moment or two ─ or three, or five─ to snap out of it.

 

“I’m impressed,” Allura shot them a smile as she handed Keith his suit jacket. She turned to Lance, “Not even us two pulled it off that well.”

“I wonder why,” Romelle snickered and shot Keith a teasing grin. He wanted to strangle her. 

“Alright, what’s next?” Allura asked.

“We still have to get out of here, right?” Romelle asked right back

“And get Hunk and Pidge and Shiro, without getting noticed,” Adam added.

“Baby steps. First, we have to evade five security officers in this maze of a building to get to a place where we have more than two exit points at a time,” Lance interjected

“How is _that_ a baby step?” Keith shot him a disbelieving look,

“Maybe I’m a tall baby?” Lance asked and Keith rolled his eyes.

Typical.

 

“Alright, guys, focus,” Allura snapped as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. He jewellery now hanged off crooked off her shoulders. Gemstones and pearls dangling all over the place, a testament to panic and chaos rather than wealth. And yet, she held herself regally, like there was a crown on her head and she was fit to bear it.

“The woman walked off to the right, all of the hallways that way lead further into the heart of Arus-”

“So we’ll walk the other way,” Romelle interrupted.

“What about the guys who were pursuing _us_ earlier?” Lance asked his forehead creased in thought. Keith could get lost in the way his mind crafted lines of thought into his face, how─ He halted the thought, took a deep breath, recomposed himself. Lance’s touch was still tingling on his skin and Keith felt the urge to touch where his lips had brushed his ear just minutes earlier. He felt weak, tugged off balance, a frantically fumbling fool desperately trying to keep his head above water. It didn’t work. Lance had torn a hole into his mask that would take weeks to patch not just minutes.

 

Keith exhaled again and made his way towards the door, he put in great effort to make it seem decisive and determined, even if everything residing inside his chest wasn’t and wouldn’t be for a very long time.

“We have to leave. We can’t warn Hunk and Pidge from down here and leaving them in the dark will put them at risk.” Keith didn’t know where the commanding tone inside his voice came from. He certainly _wasn’t_ feeling it. But there, in his voice, his body language, it rested like it had no other place to be.

 

That was all it needed to kick the rest of the team back into gear. They silently ducked out into the hallway and kept turning and turning. Out in the hallway, it were Lance and Romelle who led the way both most intuitive when it came to memorising floor plans and knowing directions. 

It wasn’t that Keith himself didn’t know how to do it himself, he knew how to all the parts of his mission by himself even if he wasn’t that good at them. Working most of his life alone had taught him that. You were either self-reliant or dead. But panic and adrenaline sometimes turned right to left and left to right or made him lose count when it came to how many times he had turned right ─ or was it left? ─ before stepping into a room.

So he let others take care of it. Or had learned how to let them take care of it, anyway. 

 

* * *

 

They stepped into a harshly-lit room and found themself engulfed in furs and feathers and suit jackets. Lance let out a cough and then a sneeze. And while the sound echoed, there was no gunshot to answer it, meaning they were alone, for now. 

“Let’s try again for the comms,” Lance opened up the link and narrowed his eyes as it remained silent. 

“Lance here, does anyone copy?” There were a few beats of silence as they all collectively held their breaths and then─

_“Copy that. Shiro here. What’s your status?”_ His voice sounded strained as it crackled through the communicator but there was no laboured breathing that might have indicated an injury. Keith allowed himself a small sliver of relief. 

“We met up with our contact, turned out it was all a scam anyway. we won’t get any Mespos here tonight.”

_“Let’s not lose hope quite so fast,” Shiro answered his voice practically vibrating with giddiness._

_“_ What do you mean?” Adam asked.

“ _Our handlers might not have had Mespos but some rich person, who is apparently heading to one hell of an after-party, does._ ” Shiro explained, “ _There are about fifteen boxes in this van, not the amount we anticipated, but more than nothing.”_

Allura and Romelle lit up brighter than any Christmas tree Keith had ever seen and Lance’s eyes turned into saucepans. 

“Can you make out the owner?” Adam asked, righting his glasses, eyes narrowed in calculating thought.

There was some shift and rustling as Shiro seemed to climb over a lot of stuff. “I felt a plaque or something earlier but I didn’t have the chance to check.” He pressed out while what sounded like lifting something.

“Shiro, won’t you alert anyone?” Allura asked, her face drawn tight in concern

_“Nah, I’m alone and the driver’s just left for a smoke.”_ He punched out an exhausted grunt, something crunched loud enough to make Keith flinch and Shiro let out a satisfied gasp.

“Got it. It reads, ‘ _Property of James Richard Griffin.”_

“Is that actually on a plaque?” Lance asked disbelievingly.

“Yeah, it’s welded into the backside of the driver’s seat.” Lance shook his head and Keith found himself reflexively rolling his eyes. Rich People.

 

Romelle’s eyes widened in recognition at the familiar name and then her mouth curled up into a sneer. “He had no qualms betting half a fortune while playing against Allura didn’t almost even bat an eye against losing it. He can live without his shipment of fancy drugs.” Allura snorted but didn’t raise opposition. That counted a lot.

Lance turned to face Keith and gripped his upper arm. “From where do I know the name James Griffin?” Keith blinked at him, as his blue eyes bore into him. Then it clicked.

“The Garrison Police Academy. His mother Marsha Griffin runs the school board. He’s, like, _the_ trust fund baby.”

Romelle snorted. “Oh, he can _definitely_ afford to lose it now.” Then her face sobered up, “But we still need to get to you.”

“Shiro, can you jumpstart the van?” Lance asked.

_“Can I─? Of course, I can jumpstart the van.”_ Shiro sounded almost offended but Keith knew that was just him being extra. Keith also knew that Shiro needed neither both of his hands nor his eyes to jumpstart a car and has watched him do it multiple times so his affront was somewhat justified. If you could stomach unnecessary pettiness that was.

 

Adam’s gaze cleared as he resurfaced from the depths of his thoughts a new plan in tow.

“Alright, listen up, this is the game plan: We’ll get Hunk and Pidge and fill them in. Takashi, you go take care of an extraction and make sure you are where we’ll tell you to be. We’re getting out of here as soon as possible.”

“Roger that.”

“Copy that.”

“You got it.”

A chorus of agreement. A small win that was only sweetened by another commlink popping open. _“Pidge, here. Does anyone copy?”_

“Pidge, holy shit, I’ve never been happier to hear from you,” Lance spoke in a rushed exhale.

_“Hah, sap.”_

Lance rolled his eyes.“I despise you deeply. Please tell me you bear good news.”

“Of course, I do. Since none of you seem to be able to do your jobs right or remain on your posts, I have decided to step in and save the day.” She paused for dramatic effect and Keith felt ready to strangle her.

“Pidge,” Adam drawled out, a cross between a warning and just plain exhaustion. God, they all needed a nap.

_“I’ve gathered Hunk and took care of the Curtis Issue.”_

“Hunk’s with you?” Lance asked at the same time that Adam blurted out, “What did you do to Curtis?”

“Yes, Hunk’s comm foil ripped while taking care of Curtis which is why he was unable to contact you but he’s here with me and everything’s okay.”

_“Hey guys,”_ Hunk chimed in and Lance exhaled a century’s worth of air, _“The Curtis Problem is taken care of ─ No, Adam, we didn’t seriously hurt him. Let’s just say he’ll sleep for a while and won’t remember much when he wakes up.”_

Keith thought he heard Shiro snort but the sound was too faint to be sure.

 “ _As, for an extraction plan, let’s meet at the west end of Arus, the bit that leads to the garage. Pidge will get there through the vents and as the only one, who doesn’t currently have money on their head and actually looks like they have a purpose of being here, I’ll just walk right out.”_

Huh, this would actually work. “Well, copy that, team leader,” Lance said, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips, when no one made any indication of refusal and the link fell silent again.

He turned and faced the rest of his team. “We should split up,” Romelle suggested, playing with the edge of her sleeve.

“That sounds like the beginning of disaster.” Lance bit down on his lip. It had taken them so much effort to find each other again. The thought of splitting up didn’t sit well with him.

“No, she’s right,” Keith caught his gaze and answered Lance’s worry with determination forged from iron, “We have three people who know the floor plans inside out and getting a group of five out of her unseen, is next to impossible.” Lance averted his gaze when Keith’s eyes seemed to gleam like they had been set ablaze. He couldn’t handle this right now – the determined set of his jaw, the stubbornness inside his eyes, the fact that Lance’s lips now knew how his skin felt – under normal circumstance, yes. But not now, not when he was this off-balance.

“I also agree with them,” Adam joined in.

Alright, so it was decided. Allura nodded. “Lance, you and Keith, will go together. Adam, you and Romelle are with me.” Lance felt too weak to voice any sort of protest. It would have been for show anyway. Something inside his chest cramped when he thought of letting Keith out of his sight when there were armed guards ready to kill him without hesitation. 

Keith appeared right next to him, his body a strong line of tension that just barely brushed Lance’s arm. Lance did his best not to flinch. 

 

“This is it then,” Romelle said, reaching underneath the slit of her dress to check for her knife, “The next time we see each other, we’re out of here.

“Stay safe.” Allura pinned both of them with a heavy gaze.

“We will,” Lance answered for the both of them. _I will keep him safe._ “You do, too.”

 

A shared nod and then they parted ways.

 

Lance turned towards Keith after the door on the side of the closet that led to one of the big halls clicked shut. “Your tie is crooked.” Lance had no idea how his voice remained steady, while he couldn’t help but stare at the column of Keith’s throat, but thank God, it did. 

Keith swallowed and shot him a look Lance couldn’t read. “Fix it for me?” Caught between a question and a demand. Not that it mattered anyway, Lance would have said yes either way. Keith turned to face him, hands on his side. Both his posture and his face, open and… vulnerable.

Something inside Lance’s chest unravelled.

He took a step closer and began to undo Keith’s tie. Lance felt Keith’s attention like a physical weight on his shoulders, as he straightened his collar for him. 

“I thought you can do this yourself?” Lance asked, teasing, despite his dry mouth and the barely suppressed tremble in his fingers.

“I thought you asked me to indulge you?” Keith caught his eyes and raised an eyebrow at him. Lance looked at him, let his eyes ghost over his strong jawline and cheekbones, before coming to rest on his lips. 

He forced himself to speak. “Thank you for your kindness, then.” He didn’t quite hit the sarcastic tone of voice he was aiming for. Instead, his voice was a rushed, shaky exhale. Lance fastened the knot and folded down Keith’s shirt collar. His swept over Keith’s form again and he reached out to straighten both his pocket square and a stray curl that had escaped the rest of his low ponytail.

“Am I pretty enough?” Keith asked teasingly, mirth glinting in his eyes.

“Always,” Lance answered and immediately cursing himself for the fondness that had leaked into his voice. He took a step back and awkwardly cleared his throat when all that Keith did was stare at him again with that look inside his eyes that Lance had never really learned to read properly.

“I think that was enough time, we should go after them now.” Lance walked towards the door, his persona already coming back to him, his body language already shifting. He heard a whispered _thank you,_ though that could have also been his imagination tricking him and opened the door

 

* * *

 

Keith and Lance stepped out into the hallway that connected the Red Room to the White Room and took a right turn towards the latter of the two. He remained a step behind Lance, his eyes on the straight line of his spine. Lance walked not like someone who was currently being pursued and who should hide but instead he kept his chin high and looked like he had any damn right to be here. Keith, who was almost vibrating out of his skin did his best to just scowl as menacing as possible and keep pace with Lance.

 

They followed the stream of people into the White Room, a domineered by white marble and golden chandeliers. Lance turned to the right and wove his way through the crowd. He was easy to keep track of since he was taller than average, so Keith followed him without any trouble. 

 

That didn’t mean that trouble didn’t have other ways of catching up with them.  

 

“Keith Kogane, would you look at that.” Keith shot around and froze when his eyes fell on James Griffin. He took a second to catch himself and the cold grin on Griffin’s face told him that that had been a second too long, that his slip up hadn’t gone by unnoticed.

“Griffin.” Keith pressed out between clenched teeth.

A presence appeared behind his back and Keith relaxed slightly when Lance put his hand on the small of his back. 

“What are you doing here? I didn’t think this would be your usual crowd.” Griffin stole a martini off waiter’s tray, the movement smooth despite the waiter’s hurry and took a languorous sip as he sized Keith up, his eyes without a doubt looking for imperfections he could pick at. He wouldn’t find any, Lance had made sure of that. 

“He’s here with me,” Lance stepped out of Keith’s shadow and shot Griffin a blinding smile, “Lance-”

“McClain. Yes, I know,” Lance’s fingers on Keith’s back twitched and Griffin’s grin widened, “Garrison Police Academy, wasn’t it? Didn’t quite make the cut for National Guard.” Lance stiffened and Keith did his best not to do the same. The Garrison has and always would be a sore spot for Lance, the times he _had_ told Keith about it, in the dead of night tucked away between shared sheets, his voice had been full of self-loathing and hatred. Keith’s right hand twitched with the desire to throw a punch. 

“It doesn’t matter now.” Lance bit out, holding onto his composure by the threads.

“Doesn’t it, really?” Griffin angled his head and took another sip, his lips stained almost violently blue at the corner, his eyes alight with cruel glee.

“Drop it, Griffin,” Keith growled out.

“Nobody asked you, _deserter_ ,” Griffin spat out the term as if it was worse than murder but it couldn’t hurt Keith, he had come to terms with the truth a long time ago.

“How about some respect, Griffin. We were having a perfectly civil conversation up until now, no need for name-calling,” Lance snapped right back, his eyes murderous.

“I have no respect for the inability to follow even simple or-”

 

“Gentlemen,” a male voice interrupted them.

“What?” Griffin drawled out, his voice a study in bored arrogance.

“You are under arrest.” Keith’s heart and stomach dropped to the floor as Lance next to him went rigid. 

“Excuse me?!” Griffin spat out.

“Not you, Sir. The two men behind you.” The burly bald man, the same they had just barely passed in the hallway earlier, was pointing at them, panting completely red in the face. Or rather he was pointing at Lance.

“Leandro Àlvarez, you are under arrest.” He made moves to come closer but multiple things stopped him from doing that. Keith shifted so that he was essentially shielding Lance with his body at the same time as Griffin spoke up.

“Never heard of this name.” Same arrogance, now paired with annoyance rather than boredom.

“My name is Lance McClain,” Lance bristled. He pushed Keith aside and stared down the guard. 

“Lies!” The guard spat out and took out a pair of handcuffs. They snapped open but Griffin, of all people, stepped in again. 

“I can attest for that or are you calling me, James Griffin, a liar, too. Because that _will_ have some consequences,” Griffin growled out his threat like someone who knew exactly how much power his name carried. But he had all the reason to. While the matriarch of the Griffin Family held the Garrison school board on a tight leash, her husband indulged his love for gambling and bought shareholdings of different Casinos whenever he felt like it.

The guard visibly paled and took a few steps back. “No, no. Of course not, Sir.” 

Lance leaned down to Keith’s ear and whispered. “Let’s bank on Griffin’s ego on this one.” He straightened back up and morphed his expression into anger and outrage.

“You should leave,” Griffin dismissed him with a mere handwave, “You have insulted me enough.” And indeed, without even giving Lance a last glance the guard vanished back into the crowd, his knees still shaking. 

The sway that money could have. Glorious.

 

Keith exhaled as Griffin turned towards them, his entire attention on Lance. Keith also turned and his eyes widened when he saw that Lance was biting down on his lips, hands visibly shaking. He subtly stepped onto Keith’s foot and Keith realised that he wanted him to do something.

“Lance, are you okay?” Keith put his down on Lance’s shoulder and did his best to channel true worry and tenderness into his voice. One of these was harder than the other.

Lance nodded but otherwise didn’t say a word. Griffin bought it without even blinking.

 

“I’ll get you a drink,” he said, his eyes never leaving Lance, Keith had become air now but that suited him just fine. Seemed like Griffin was indeed capable of things such as compassion who would have thought. Because instead of just flagging a waiter, he vanished into the crowd and made his way towards one of the bars. The crowd around him parting slightly as if they could smell the money on him.

 

Lance’s facade dropped the moment Griffin turned his back to them. “Let’s get out of here,” Lance hissed and dragged him into the crowd. By the time Griffin made it back with the drinks, they were nowhere to be found.

  
  


The door to the van snapped shut and Keith slumped back against the wall. “There is no way that worked.” Romelle stared at them disbelievingly after Lance finished his report on their run-in with the security guard and Griffin.

“It’s worse to piss off a rich person than to let a criminal run free, you know how it is.” Lance made a lazy gesture with his arm.

“That’s the one thing we managed to pull off all day, the universe just taking pity on us now.” Allura sighed and leaned her head back into the wall of the van as the engine beneath them roared to life.

Lance slumped until he sat pressed against Keith, shoulder to thigh. Keith’s brain didn’t short circuit… as much as expected. Keith grunted and crossed his arms. Lance slumped even further, pressed even closed. Yeah, this was pity, of course.

 

The doors of the van flew open and Pidge and Hunk climbed inside. They were order and disorder holding hands like best buddies. Pidge was drowned in dust, all kinds of gunk sticking to her hair. One of her lenses cracked once more. Hunk, on the other hand, did not have a single hair out of place, he wasn’t even sweating. It was really more than unfair considering that Keith had ripped multiple seams of his shirt back when Lance and he had to pull off their little stint.

The van door behind them snapped shut and all of them relaxed.

 

“Hunk, how do you _still_ look that good,” Lance complained. He, too, had been more than worse for wear. 

“I know how to not break protocol. Besides, I let Pidge take care of Curtis, which is why she looks like _that_.” Hunk pointed at Pidge who was currently pulling a century’s worth of dust out of her hair while simultaneously hacking up a lung.

Adam’s head whipped around and he glared at them through the small window that connected the cargo hold to the two seats in the front. “What did you do?” His tone turned commanding and his eyes narrowed to slits. Pidge swallowed but did otherwise nothing to indicate that she was in any way shaken by Adam’s open hostility.

“He’s fine, still has all his limbs and won’t remember anything when he wakes up. Other than that you really don’t want to know.” Hunk interjected before the tension between Adam and Pidge reached its tipping point. That too was a familiar script, its lines and actions well-reversed. Pidge and Adam worked well together until they didn’t. Adam said that was because Pidge was rash and irresponsible. Pidge said that was because she was willing to do things that Adam wouldn’t. The rest of the team had learned to live with it. 

“How about we drive?” Shiro had climbed into the driver’s seat earlier and now flexed his hands on the steering wheel, his metal hand glinting at the movement. 

 Allura let out an agreeing grunt, entirely inelegant and exhausted, and made a demanding gesture at the driver’s seats. 

“Yes, please.” She closed her eyes and leaned her head against Romelle's shoulder. “This mission was enough of a catastrophe already.” She sounded truly defeated and Romelle reached out to caress her curls. Allura leaned into the touch, eyes now closed in bliss not fatigue and Keith’s heart clenched with longing. He stole a glance at Lance out of the corner of his eye but Lance’s attention was elsewhere.

_As yours should be as well._ His voice of reason chided and Keith forced himself to comply.

 

Lance reached for the gun that Hunk had brought with him, as he entered. “How did you get this, beautiful baby?” Lance caressed the rifle gentler than most people would hold their newborn child and Keith’s only thought in his head was _I want to be caressed like that._ Now that he had had a taste of how Lance would feel against him, the longing would consume him.

“I got delegated to guard duty after they realised I weigh a hundred and twenty kilos and am about two metres tall. I was given the order to intimidate you into submission if I happened to find you.” Hunk himself let out a snort at that so Keith didn’t feel bad about his own.

Beneath them, the engine roared to life and Shiro began to steer the car towards the exit of the garage. 

“Do you think you will still nee─”

“Yes, you can have it,” Hunk sighed, already knowing what Lance was going to ask.

“Sweet!” Lance crooned and leaned forwards to leave a wet kiss on Hunk’s cheek. Hunk only sighed, already used to Lance’s antics. Lance settled back into the wall, surprisingly steady, considering the fact that he had been kneeling inside a moving car, but when he leaned back into the wall, he was _even_ closer than before. Great.

 

Keith flinched hard,  when Lance put his hand on his knee, his palm large and slender and steady. Lance turned his head to look at Keith. The lighting inside the back of the van was dim but in the small sliver of light that fell through to the window in the front, Lance’s eyes glinted like concerned gemstones. The kind so precious that would have even regulars of Arus gaping in awe.

“Are you okay?” His voice was a concerned whisper and was a balm on Keith’s frazzled nerves. 

Keith took a deep breath and lied. “Yeah, I’m fine”.

“Liar,” Lance whispered back, concern in his eyes deepening. There was no anger, no disappointment. Only concern.

Keith sighed. “Caught me.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. Lance’s grip on his knee tightened and warmth bubbled up inside his chest. 

“We almost made it,” Lance whispered, his voice like warm honey, “Just hold on for a bit longer.”

 

Keith pried Lance’s hand off his knee and laced their fingers together. He would later blame it on exhaustion or the fact that his skin had been craving touch enough that he would take anyone’s hand. I didn’t and he wouldn’t but that didn’t matter.

 But right now, this felt like the only thing that would calm his aching chest. 

Lance stilled when Keith held his hand, his entire body, tense and motionless, and Keith kept his eyes shut as if the darkness behind them could soften the blow of inevitable rejection. It wouldn’t but it wouldn’t have to, anyway.

Lance tightened his grip and his thumb began to draw slow small circles on the back of Keith’s hand. When Keith opened his eyes Lance was smiling.

The corners of his own mouth rose in an echo and the smile passed between them like a shared secret, like a magic spell unfolding. 

 

A gunshot shattered the window at the back of the van. 

 

They all flinched and scrambled off to the sides.“What the fuck is going on?” Pidge cursed.

Adam looked at them from the passenger’s seat. “So,” he drew out the vowel, “we have company.”

“Who is it?” Allura asked, holding onto both Romelle and a wooden box filled with Mespos as Shiro began to drastically speed up. The engine beneath their feet groaned and rumbled and Lance was pressed even harder into Keith as Keith scrambled for ways to keep them both upright. 

“Looks like Arus security guards” Another slew of gunshots hit the back of the van and Keith braced himself for the sound of another glass shattering but it didn’t come.

“They are terrible shots.” Lance murmured and that was all the warning that Keith got. Lance pushed himself upright and off him. Before Keith even had the time react Lance was at the window.

“Hunk, the rifle.” He stretched out his hand without looking and Keith’s heart plummeted. 

“Lance, what are you doing?!” Keith yelled over the sound the tires screeching and cars honking as Shiro flew past what he assumed was another red light at an intersection. 

“I’m saving our asses. If they manage to follow us out of downtown we’re screwed.”

 

Lance loaded the rifle and cocked it. Keith exchanged a wide-eyed look with Romelle and Allura, who sat huddled together between to leaning towers of boxes. They responded to his obvious panic with rock-solid determination. 

_If there’s anyone who can then it’s Lance._

Keith knew that himself but still, his heart was in his throat as he watched Lance shoot up and position his rifle. 

He had the element of surprise and the best aim in the city on his side as he took his first shot. 

Lance hit something, that much Keith was sure but it couldn’t have been the right thing because Lance didn’t budge he remained standing like a tree even as the car swerved and took another shot, then he cursed and ducked back down when he became three shots as an answer. He waited a few seconds and got back up, took aim and fired again and again. Shiro swerved again and this time Lance stumbled. 

Right into the line of fire. 

 

A bullet soared past his arm and hit the back wall of the van and Lance gasped in pain but he didn’t falter. He spat out a curse, took aim again and didn’t stop shooting. Keith stared at him wide-eyed as his right sleeve began to turn red. This was terrible. He had to _do_ something. But he couldn’t no one but Lance was a shot good enough that it would have made a difference. So instead he just stared, his heart in his throat as Lance took shot after shot and didn’t stop until the answers to his shots faded away. 

 

When the rumble of the engine was there was left, he collapsed to the floor, his back against the door that now carried multiple bullet holes. Keith shot over to him as if he were a bullet himself and grabbed his shoulders. 

“Lance, are you okay?” He breathed out the question, his hands frantically searching for injuries even after Lance had offered a weak nod. 

“Hurts like a bitch but I’m fine,” he gritted out in pain as he offered Keith a weak smile. Keith put a hand on his cheek and watched almost in awe how Lance relaxed into the cradle of his palm.

“Are you okay back there,” Adam’s worried voice rang out from the front.

“Injured but nothing we can’t handle,” Pidge answered, her voice still shaking from the adrenaline. Even they did things like this, missions and what not regularly, they never really got used to being shot at.

 

Under the watchful eye of the rest of their time, Keith rearranged them until he could comfortably hold Lance against his chest. They remained, comforting each other with nothing but breaths and silence until they arrived home about thirty minutes later. 

 

* * *

 

The rest of the team didn’t even bat an eye at Keith practically carrying Lance back into the house. 

“We’ll debrief in the morning,” Shiro said, his tired voice echoing through the entrance hall of the mansion. He looked just like the rest of them did, barely on their feet, now that the residue adrenaline was starting to fail them. “Take care of your wounds and get some rest. See you tomorrow.” Everyone let out an approving grunt and dispersed into different directions, like a flock of birds.

 

“Will you two be okay?” Hunk asked, his eyes clouded over in worry. He had torn his shirt and had wrapped the shreds around his thigh.

“I got it,” Keith reassured him, “You take care of this.” He thrust his chin into the direction of Hunk’s thigh and shot him a look that ended up somewhere between false sternness and concern. Hunk seemed to catch the drift. 

“Just a shard of glass, I’ll be fine.” He shot him a soft smile and raised a brow at where Lance was very heavily leaning on Keith. “Lance, that bullet hit your arm not your legs.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lance answered haughtily and leaned even heavier into Keith. His breath was now ghosting over the skin of his neck and Keith had to pull himself together to not show any obvious reactions on his face.

“And Keith, you’re fine with that?” There was something else beneath that question, something that gave it more depth and weight.

“Absolutely.” Keith nodded and Hunk shot them both a knowing grin and bade them goodnight.

Keith adjusted his grip on Lance and leaned down to him. “You ready?”

Lance slurred out a tired _yes_ against the skin of his neck that Keith felt rather than actually heard and his heart, despite all terror and exhaustion, despite all worry and fear, skipped a beat, just like it always did. 

“Let’s go patch you up.” Keith doesn’t know why he whispered the words, they were alone in the entrance hall, even if the words carried there would be no one to hear them. And yet… this moment, this… _thing_ between them felt like a delicate bubble and he wouldn’t be the one to burst it.

 

Keith led the both of them through the high halls of the mansion. Their steps uneven and slightly swaying, almost as if they were drunk, not tired. Keith had to tighten his grip on Lance’s waist three separate times, twice out of necessity and once just because he had been weak… because he had been weak and Lance had been pretty and his breath had ghosted across his throat like it belonged there. 

Keith pulled himself together enough to make it to his room and get the first aid kid from the adjoining bathroom. Each one of their bathrooms had one stashed away in it because all of them were reckless enough to get seriously hurt at least once every two months and they’ve now learned to prepare for it.

 

Keith sat Lance down on the armchair he had repurposed as a desk chair. Its thick deep red cushions almost swallowed Lance as he leaned into them, more asleep than not now that the adrenaline was wearing off. 

“This will hurt,” Keith warned as he prepared a cotton ball with rubbing alcohol. Lance just blinked at him, hair disheveled and carrying dust, blue eyes fogged over with exhaustion, suit jacket torn and bloodstained. Keith willed his hands steady as he slowly pried the sticky fabric off Lance’s arm.

“I know, this is hardly my first rodeo on the cotton swab of death, make it quick.” Lance’s answer was slurred and strained but still, both of them snorted.

“You’re such an idiot.” Keith shook his head.

“And way too endearing for you to ever get rid me- _ow.”_ Lance hissed in pain as Keith began to dab the wound with the cotton ball. Otherwise, he remained motionless. 

“I’m sorry,” Keith whispered as though that would make things better. He shouldn’t be this shaken. They had been through worse. They had spent night gripping the other's hand tight as the other danced on the brink of death. This was nothing against those hours of terror and yet…

Lance flinched once more and Keith wanted nothing more than to kiss him better, wanted nothing more than to soothe the crease between his brows, lean in close and whisper _I’m so sorry love, this will be over soon, I promise_ and equally useless sweet nothings. But Keith bit down on his tongue.

“Not your fault,” Lance pressed out between clenched teeth as Keith prepared the bandage.

“But yours for putting yourself in the line of fire,” Keith murmured under his breath but Lance heard him just fine.

“I did what I had to. I would do it again, to save the team, to save _you.”_ Keith's head shot up and Lance was staring at him. Keith fell into the deep wells that were Lance’s eyes and started to drown. 

“You shouldn’t put yourself at risk like that. Not for me, anyway.” Keith added and averted his eyes, resurfaced to get a lungful of air. But Lance caught his cheek with his uninjured arm and turned his head until Keith was once again looking at him.

“I would take a bullet for you, Keith.” Lance didn’t once waver, didn’t once hesitate.

“You _have_ taken bullets for me.” Joking to diffuse the tension was Lance’s thing, not Keith’s. Hence why it didn’t work. Lance reached out with his other and cupped Keith’s face.

“I would all of them at once it meant I got to keep you safe.”

This time when Keith looked into Lance’s eyes, he let himself drown. Plunged down and down. His composure slipped off him like a pair of shackles finally unlocked, its iron grip melting from the fire burning inside his chest.

 

Lance’s eyes flicked down to his lips and Keith’s eyes did the same. He breathed in, the same air Lance did now that they were so close – when had they had gotten so close? – and for a moment he hesitated. His eyes flicked back up, met Lance’s, tangled up in a blue that was all that he ever wanted, and his self-control snapped like a twig.

Keith ground out a hoarse _please_ to which Lance answered a breathless _yes_ and just like that they were kissing. A pair of lips finally finding each other after being denied time and time again. A pair of lips moving in tandem, one of them calling, the other one answering. 

Keith’s hands shot up and gripped Lance’s forearms. He’d always thought he’d be gentle that he’d handle Lance like the precious stone that he thought he was but his hands gripped tight, fingertips biting into Lance’s skin and Lance’s hands on Keith’s cheeks did the same.

They parted, breathless and disbelieving. For a moment all Keith could do was stare and then Lance smiled and all of the gears inside Keith’s brain began to work again. He leaned his forehead against Lance’s and smiled. “Finally,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” Lance answered, just as breathless, his cheeks stained red, his eyes sparkling, “finally.”

 

* * *

 

**_EPILOGUE – a week later:_ **

Sunset coloured the whole room a deep red when the door to the conference room swung open and Shiro stepped in. He was dressed to the nines, his hair gelled back, his streak now white again.

“And?” Pidge asked eagerly and Lance next to him straightened up as well.

Shiro walked over to Adam and put his hands on the backrest of his chair. “Well, it might not have been enough Mespos to cure all the sick but it was enough to make a sizable dent and it bought them enough time to properly take care of the remaining sick people.”

“Oh, thank God.” Allura breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. Despite it being afternoon, she and Romelle were still in their nightclothes and silken bathrobes. They had just come back from a mission yesterday, they had done nothing but laze in bed all they. Keith didn’t blame him, he himself wanted to do nothing more, had wanted nothing more than to wrap Lance up in their silken sheets and never let him go again.

“Good work team. I’m proud of us.” Shiro smiled like ever the shining leader and Keith felt Shiro’s pride settle on his shoulders like a cloak of protective armour. He tightened his grip on Lance’s hand and lifted it up to his mouth to press a kiss to one of Lance’s knuckles. Lance turned his head and flashed him a dazzling smile that had Keith smiling back before he even knew what he was doing. 

There was a flutter inside his chest that hadn’t been there a week ago. A flutter that had him asking _Is this happiness? Could that be it?_ “Let’s find out,” Lance had said, the words, murmured against the skin of Keith’s chest and followed by a rain of kisses.

 

Keith surfaced from his thoughts when he saw that Shiro’s smile morphing into a mischievous grin. “Shiro, what aren’t you telling us?” Keith asked warily.

“Well,” Shiro drawled out, his lips twitching with amusement, “On my way home I also found this.” he reached into the inside of his suit jacket and pulled out four wanted posters. Keith reached for one and was not at all prepared for what he saw.

 

“They got my nose wrong!” Lance yelled out when he saw his poster, “It looks like an onion.”

“That does look like an onion,” Hunk agreed. 

“Oh, yes,” Allura agreed. 

Keith also wanted to say something but was too busy dying of laughter. They had given Lance, who in reality had a very dainty nose, a nose that was worthy of its own postal code. 

“Did they get the rest of you right?” Adam asked, still wheezing of laughter. Keith waited until they had calmed down a bit and went to check.

“Yeah, they did.” And the laughter began a new.

  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so we've made it! (i honestly didn't think we would but oh well.) Thank you all for sticking with me to the end, even if it took me a while. I'm eternally grateful. i don't really know yet what i'll do next but we'll see.  
> come yell at me on [ if u feel like it! See you all soon!!](https://twitter.com/cxnfiscated)

**Author's Note:**

> you made it!! congrats!! thank you so, so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it!! if you did (or even if you didn't) please tell me!! leave a comment or hit me up on [my twitter!!](https://twitter.com/cxnfiscated) comments really make my day. also, if you'd like to check out some of my other writings, start here (they're at least decent, i promise):  
> -[plant a seed (we'll make it grow)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18794467): post s8, canon divergent, slowburn klance  
> and  
> -[And Yet, The Sun Will Rise Again](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15206018/chapters/35268089): multi-chaptered dystopian AU, with everyone being a badass and also slowburn klance
> 
> So yeah, we'll see each other soon-ish (depending on my schedule). until then, byeeee!!


End file.
